Running on Fumes
by Pivot
Summary: RiD, set between 'The Test' and 'Wedge's Short Fuse': Something is rotten in the heart of the Megastar - and that's just the engines. As the fallout dust clears, nobody's quite got what they wanted - or have they?
1. Signs in the Entrails

_Disclaimer: The author of this fanfic does not claim to own the series, the characters, or anything else of the franchise. Moving on now._

_This one really is an honest-to-gods multi-parter, focusing on more characters than it's convenient to list. But mostly Scourge and Mega-Octane. And Sky-byte. And the Spychangers. And Dr. Onishi.... ahem. Please do drop a review with any criticism or other comments._

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* * *

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**Running on Fumes**

**Chapter One: Signs in the Entrails**

Avoiding battle can be as risky as seeking it.

Mega-Octane had been intent on this assignment since the hours before dawn, and now as the afternoon drew on, he still didn't dare to let his attention waver. You couldn't let your guard down when you _were_ the guard.

The green truck came to another bend in the road and came to a halt as he checked the map. After a few seconds he sighed and did a perfunctory sensor sweep. All clear.

"Mega-Octane, transform!"

His limbs unfolded as he rose to his feet, standing in robot-mode for the first time all day. He glanced at the human-built fence by his knees, then scoffed to himself and stepped over it.

It hadn't rained, so there was no mud to add to the patchy grass cover he was cutting across. Just dry soil, noisy insects, and a bunch of sheep huddled at the other end of the field. He couldn't see the others, of course. They were spread out over several miles, patrolling the edges along dirt tracks and gullies, through the sky and through the ditch. Alone, each was an innocent sight from a distance (except Armorhide, but for a tank he put up a good effort). Up in orbit, Movor kept position over them, and transmitted his data down to the Megastar, where Megatron and Scourge were watching.

The sky was clear, the sun was mild, and most importantly, their path was empty. And in the centre, somewhere far to his right, the Megastar was moving.

It wasn't fast, considering what the ship could do. It was a constant speed, though, and the ground-based Decepticon escort had to keep their attention on finding roads or level ground to follow. Sometimes this meant shortcuts.

Mega-Octane reached the next road and stepped onto it to transform back. He wasn't too concerned about keeping up. It was Autobots he had to watch out for, or any humans who might call them. Moving across land was always more dangerous than sea. And the amount of energy it used to get around made it hard enough to shift the base once. If they were discovered and had to move again too soon, it could be disastrous.

His comlink was on, and the others were talking. Their conversation made a background sound to his own thought as he drove. Every now and then he deigned to pay attention to them.

"_Hey Movor, see any Autobots from up there?" _Ro-tor asked.

"_Nope. They must've all decided to stay indoors."_

"_On a day like this?" _Armorhide snorted.

"_Guess they must be wearin' thin on the nature-loving thing," _said Rollbar.

"_Too bad. Watching you guys drive in circles isn't what I call prime-time entertainment."_

"_Is that what you call a pun?"_

"_Don't get complacent," _Mega-Octane reminded them. _"One slip-up and the Autobots could follow us to the landing zone."_

"_And with those Spychangers' camouflage, we won't get a chance to spot them," _Armorhide added.

"_You'd know all about that, now, wouldn't you?" _Rollbar commented, his tone slightly sourer than usual.

Armorhide laughed. _"Still mad I got the drop on you?"_

Scourge's image appeared on their screens, breaking into the talk. _"Decepticons, hold your positions! We're approaching a suitable landing site."_

Mega-Octane returning his own image, nodding slightly. _"Which way, Scourge?"_

"_I'll give you the heading in a moment."_

The information came through a second later. Mega-Octane compared the co-ordinates with his map. _"All right, Decepticons. Let's go."_

* * *

"I guess that's one good thing about having the Decepticons around," said Gasskunk. "This time we're not the ones walking around half the countryside."

"Yeah, all we have to do is kick back and relax." Darkscream sat back in his chair, arms behind his head. "They can do all the work for us."

"I wouldn't get so happy if I were you. You know how big Megatron is on getting more energy every time we move. He'll probably make us go and find him more once we stop." Slapper swilled the dregs of his beer around and listened to it slap against the sides of the can.

"You think so? I'm kinda' startin' to think he's forgotten about us. I mean, he didn't send us out early this time, did he?"

"Besides," said Gasskunk, "even if you're right, which is more fun: guarding the base or stealing energy?"

Slapper shrugged. "Hey, good point."

Darkscream yawned. "How much longer have we got, anyway? We've been moving for hours."

Sky-byte poked his head into the room and glared at them. "Will you three clowns get out here? We have to be ready to move as soon as we land!"

They got up, groaning. Slapper threw the empty beer can at Darkscream. "Nice going, nutcracker."

* * *

Megatron's good humour was obvious from the moment Mega-Octane stepped through the door. It vibrated through the room, and part of the Decepticon wondered how much of it was just his imagination. He delivered his report in the usual style, short and to the point. The move had gone according to plan; the Decepticon Commandos had checked the area and found it clear; they were now returned and would be ready for duty again shortly.

He waited, gaze fixed on Megatron. He was tired, and the dust on his shell was irritating him the longer he stood there. It didn't matter, he thought distractedly: Megatron was pleased.

And if I get out of here in time to get the first chance at the wash rack, so will I.

Megatron gave a short nod. "Excellent. I'll have need of you soon. Our fuel reserves are in sore need of replenishing."

"The Decepticons will see to it, my lord," said Scourge.

"I'm counting on it… and on one other thing." The main screen behind Megatron activated, showing the Predacons clustered around an open hatchway. He turned his chair to face them. "I want to ensure that the engines are in a fit state to actually use the energy you obtain. The state of disrepair the base is in has begun to pose an intolerable risk. Without the proper maintenance, the Megastar could break down at any time. That's why I have Sky-byte and his Predacons cleaning out the lower levels. This is the perfect opportunity to effect repairs in a safe location.

"But while our engines are inoperable, we are unable to retreat." He swung the chair around to face the two Decepticons over his folded arms. "This task must be completed as swiftly as possible so we are ready to move at any time. My entire strategy depends on it!"

"I understand." Scourge bowed his head. Mega-Octane waited behind him to hear their orders. Water-related thoughts were resurfacing, now there was a chance of being dismissed. "What would you have us do?"

"I want the Decepticons to inspect the state of the ship's propulsion systems. Report back to me on their condition."

_Scourge is going to love this assignment, _Mega-Octane thought wearily. Standing closer than Megatron, he saw the black Decepticon stiffen. _Knew it._

"With all respect, sir," Scourge said in a low voice, "the Decepticons are not engineers."

"No," said Megatron carelessly. "However, I gave you your command." He leaned forward. "Don't question mine, Scourge."

Mega-Octane fought the urge to step back, away from the implied and the mech it was directed at. He'd had enough firsthand experience of how reckless Scourge could be with his temper.

It seemed far too long a moment before Scourge bowed. "As you wish, Lord Megatron."

* * *

The Spychangers didn't keep their headquarters in Cybertron Base. Theirs was a far smaller, somewhat older complex located in another part of the city entirely. T-AI knew where it was; Optimus Prime knew where it was; Hotshot was happy to observe that so far, all of his team remembered where it was.

Nobody else had any business knowing, which had two useful side-effects: one, if you were deeply involved in what you were doing, no-one was likely to disturb you with knocks on the door; two, if they did, they probably had reason.

If they didn't, W.A.R.S. was allowed (by longstanding arrangement) to greet the intruder with a non-lethal projectile of his choice. He'd only used the privilege once, thank Primus, and as Optimus had pointed out at the time, water balloons weren't going to deter a fire truck.

Which was a shame, because right now Hotshot could have thrown one.

"You've come too soon," he said, as Optimus appeared in the doorway. "We don't have any news for you yet."

"Nothing?" Optimus circled the table with its holographic display and stopped by REV. Hotshot looked across at him and shook his head.

T-AI's holographic image appeared over the map and turned to the Autobot leader. "If I can decrypt Dr. Onishi's microchip and find out what the Predacons want from it, we'd have better luck predicting their movements. But I still need time to work on that."

"With T-AI's help, we've tracked every instance of Predacon activity we know about," REV said, gesturing at the hologram of Earth below her. By now it had sprouted so many red dots Ironhide was calling it the measles map. "If you push it, you could say there's a cluster here and there, but that's probably just to do with the distribution of the energy sources."

"I see. And there haven't been any more sightings of the base itself?"

"Not since the last report we gave you." REV sighed. "Any time we catch sight of it, Megatron takes off on us again."

"A mobile base like that has to cost a lot of energy to run," Hotshot pointed out. "It takes time to stop and refuel, especially when you have to steal the energy. Megatron can't keep running forever. We'll get him - sooner or later."

Optimus folded his arms, frowning at the map. "Is there any way to find them faster?"

REV shrugged. "T-AI's running active searches with the sky-spies; we're investigating Predacon sightings round the clock. As far as pinning down their location goes... well, like you said: the amount of power they use has to leave a whacking great logistical footprint."

"Of course, you know what the problem there is." Hotshot waited until Optimus looked up at him before continuing, "We simply don't know the half of what they're doing. For every raid we do know about, there's probably a dozen smaller missions no-one's bothered to report. If the Decepticons burst into a major power plant, of course we're going to hear about it, but all those unmanned energy facilities where alarms aren't set off…"

"If a company realises they're losing oil, their first thought isn't 'Megatron's sitting on the pipeline', it's a rupture, or other humans sabotaging it," REV agreed dryly. "We tried checking up on oil leaks for a while, and the only criminals we ran into were contractors."

"And the problem's worse when you realise that it's those raids we really need to track," Hotshot said. "If their energy's low, they can't afford to go further afield, so that's when they'll be operating close to home."

"And when they can't afford to pick fights," Optimus agreed. He lowered his arms. "You all know just how short our timeframe is."

"Yeah." REV folded his arms, frowning. "Even if the doctor's a tough one, he'll be lucky to have lasted this long. We can't afford to push his luck."

"I'm afraid it's more than that."

Spychangers and AI looked up at him in concern. Optimus met their gazes one by one before he went on. "The Predacons aren't known for being gentle with their prisoners. On top of that, they're not used to handling organics – and their competence might be a joke for us, but Doctor Onishi's depending on it." He barely hesitated as he admitted, "When the Decepticons asked to join us last week I thought we could use their help… but I think that's another last chance that's slipped from our reach."

"What are you saying, Optimus?" T-AI looked worried.

"The odds of the doctor's surviving this far are dropping every hour. And in the meantime, we're using resources to find him that could be used to protect other people. We have to consider whether it's worth continuing such an intensive search." His voice sounded even; Hotshot wasn't fooled. Saying the difficult thing was a skill in itself, and good leaders got more practice.

"You're not suggesting we give up on him, are you?" she asked in dismay. Hotshot knew how she felt, but the look he shared with REV was resigned.

"I don't plan on giving up," Optimus said firmly. He looked around at all of them, reassuring the room on that point. "But until we've got something solid to work with – like the contents of that microchip, T-AI – we can't afford to spend our time chasing geese instead of Predacons. I want to warn you before I have to throw the orders at you."

"We understand," said Hotshot. _And by that I mean 'I've got questions for you, but I won't ask them here'. _"We'll keep going with this until further orders."

Optimus didn't say 'this may be your last shot'. He just gave the Spychangers a slow nod. "I know I can count on you. Just keep me posted." He started to move towards the door. He paused to look back at Hotshot. "If there's any way the rest of the Autobots can help…"

_Points for persistence, Prime. _"Get T-AI an omniscience upgrade and then we'll talk," Hotshot told him with a weary chuckle.

"Hmm." The Autobot leader's amusement was faint, but audible. He gave a nod of acknowledgement and left.

When he was gone, REV turned to Hotshot. "You know, if he actually follows through with that, it'll be your own damn fault."

Hotshot laughed and shared a look with the silent hologram. "I'll risk it."

"Yeah," said REV. "You said that last time, too."

* * *

The inside of the first section drew a collective 'urgh' from the Decepticons. At first Armorhide assumed the gloom was because the lights were powered down. It was a second before he noticed that some of them _were_ on – they were just weak or flickering, casting a half-sparked, pale blue light.

That'd have to change, he thought grimly. He was standing in a shallow pool of water, leaked coolant and sludge, only a step inside the door. Rollbar leaned around the edge of the doorway, peering in. The section here was covered in pipes and cables, some visibly jury-rigged and left too long. Armorhide snorted into the damp, stinking air. Even under the slime and oil and crusted salt, it'd be hard to tell what was ship and what was fossilised dolphin.

It was… _offensive_, in some weird way. He wasn't afraid to get his hands (and everything else) dirty. No time to get fussy when there was a job to be done.

And still… some bit of his instincts grimaced and grumbled and muttered loudly that no engineering section in history should _ever_ look like that. It was plain wrong.

Not that _he_ wanted to fix it.

"Now that's pretty grim," Rollbar commented. He wandered in further. The floor splashed under him. "Is anyone sure there's an engine in there?"

"Well there's got to be _something_ keeping this place going," Ro-tor said, behind them.

The jeep-bot chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Armorhide. "I guess we can't hook a hose up to your tank mode and get ourselves a water cannon."

"Heh." He shook his head. "This lot's way too delicate." He considered the room again. "Too bad: if you ask me this place ought to get a sandblasting."

"Hey, come over here a second!" Rollbar pulled a cloth from somewhere and started scrubbing at part of the machinery like it was his mission. Armorhide wondered if he'd gone funny from the fumes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, exasperated.

"Tryin' to figure out what this is."

"It's an engine," Ro-tor said, not getting it any more than Armorhide did. "Duh."

Rollbar stepped back and turned to them, gesturing so they could see. "Then _why_ does it look like a gargoyle?"

"Predacon maintenance," Ro-tor snorted.

"Yeah, right," said Slapper's voice. The toad-bot was hunched in the doorway. "Like this is our fault. Everyone knows the Pit is the worst place on the base, that's why it's sealed off."

"Yeah, well now Megatron wants it up and running." Armorhide splashed his way over to the door, the others in tow. Slapper moved back in a hurry. "And you Predacons are gonna clean it."

"Well go figure," Slapper muttered. The Decepticons ignored him and pushed past.

Armorhide led the way to the next level. "Wonder how Scourge and Mega-Octane are doing," said Rollbar behind him.

"I'll bet _they're_ not standing on any dead fish," Ro-tor grumbled.

* * *

Mega-Octane gave a grunt of effort, and the front of the casing finally came away. He lowered the sheet of metal. Beside him, Scourge's optics narrowed as they inspected the contents of engineering bank six.

"Just like the others," said the Decepticon second. "You know what'll happen if we try to fly this again?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Scourge said coldly.

"I'm not sure." Mega-Octane rested the panel he was holding on the floor. "I don't like what I'm guessing." The flight systems were in a state of total disrepair. Perhaps it was down to hard use and poor upkeep – that didn't matter to the two Decepticons. It was as good as sabotage.

"How are you going to tell Megatron about this?" he asked, looking at Scourge.

The black robot paused with his comm hand already raised and shot him a glance. "Oh, I think Megatron should see this for himself."

Mega-Octane nodded and fell silent as Scourge opened the channel. _I hope Megatron was right about this site, because it looks like we're stuck here…_


	2. Commitment Issues

_Author's note: I intended to put this up about a week after the first chapter, but my schedule has been one of woe. To anyone and everyone still reading, thank you! Reviews are still hugely appreciated, but first here is chapter two, containing speeches and hopefully fun._

* * *

**Chapter Two: Commitment Issues**

Megatron stared at his broken ship with an expression to make the guilty tremble.

Some of them did.

Scourge stood by, calmly intent, ignoring the others behind him. All his attention was on Megatron as the giant Predacon moved forward, running hands over the cracked piping, leaving trails in the layer of grime. Orange-red optics glowed thoughtfully in the gloom.

Abruptly Megatron covered his optics with a sigh of deepest despair, and Scourge wondered (perhaps treasonously) what would happen if his sludgy fingers smeared his face.

"Sky-byte," Megatron snapped, lowering his hand, "you and the Predacons will get this cleaned out – all of it, now! Scourge, Mega-Octane, have Movor begin locating supplies, and cover up the base." Decepticons and Predacons alike scattered to obey as he rounded on them with an expression darker than Scourge's own colours. Scourge bowed silently, and then followed suit.

There wasn't much to the camouflage-field. It was basically a combined hologram and forcefield: set up properly and projected over the ship, it would let the purple and blue mass blend in with the grass and dirt that covered so much of this planet. It would keep the rain from any external repairs jobs, keep birds away from the sensors, and keep prying sky spies out of their business.

A couple of the field generators had been damaged before Scourge and his troops came online… but obviously they were functional again: Mega-Octane and the others began setting them up as he briefed Movor.

"_So what am I looking for?"_ the shuttle asked.

"_Anything,"_ said Scourge. _"Megatron wants us to start identifying potential supplies."_

"_Can't you be a bit more specific?"_

"_We don't know the extent of the damage yet."_

"_So you're asking me to find you anything and everything. Talk about your wish lists…"_

Scourge's optics narrowed. _"Do-"_

At that moment Mega-Octane chipped in. _"Movor, shut up and get on with it."_

"_All right, yes sir!" _And the blasted little shuttle practically _saluted_ over the line.

Scourge looked over to where Mega-Octane was setting down another crate. The green bot coughed in apology.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt, commander," he said, under the glare of Scourge's optics. To his credit, he actually sounded sincere.

Scourge's voice was low and clear. "Give orders in my place again," he promised, "and you will be."

* * *

He hadn't thought it would come to this…

He wasn't given to attaching sentiment to his tools. And the Megastar was, after all, just a ship.

On the other hand… it had _been_ his ship through conquest after conquest, had hurled him victoriously from planet to planet to this mudball. He'd guided it through asteroid field and cannon fire, spent weeks repairing minor damages, muttered dire things into the darkness of its command room. He'd had time to put a part of himself into it, in more ways than one.

It was a huge investment. He didn't want to imagine how the Elders would respond if he called from hiding to say that he'd lost it. Denying him any further assistance would be the least of it.

Megatron glared at the screen, knowing from the room's sensors when each of his underlings arrived. Movor was already waiting on the other end of the comlink. Megatron didn't mind that for the shuttle, but he wanted to see the others in person.

The Decepticons came promptly, without wasting time; Sky-byte didn't dare to dawdle; the other Predacons didn't seem worried. Megatron swung his chair around as the last of them trudged in, waiting impatiently until they stood before him.

"We have reached a crisis point in our operations," he said, as soon as they were listening. "The damage to the ship's engines has become critical. Until it is repaired, our mobile command centre is _im_mobilised." He paused.

"But that puts us in an extremely vulnerable position. If the Autobots' spies were to find us now, we would have no way to run, and," his expression darkened as he admitted it, "with our energy levels so low, we would almost certainly lose our base."

"Well, we could always find a new one, right?" Gasskunk said. He cringed as most of the room turned withering looks on him. "Wrong?"

Megatron growled. "I don't think you quite understand the severity of our problem..." He shifted into dragon mode and advanced a couple of steps. One head bore down on the hapless Predacon; the other he raised, addressing the room in general. "The Megastar's shielding hides you from the Autobots, the converters supply you with energon, the repair bay keeps your sorry shells in one piece. This base is our lifeline, our shelter, and our last line of defence Without it, you might as well turn yourselves in to the Autobots _now_!"

Gasskunk shrank back, but he wasn't the only one. Megatron let that sink in for a moment, inwardly pleased. At least they weren't suicidal.

"Scourge, I want Mega-Octane and Armorhide here: they're to assess the damage and report back to me. You and the rest may begin collecting the energy we need. You will be quiet about it. You _will not_ draw attention. The Autobots _will not_ find out what we're up to. And _I_ will not tolerate any of you doing anything to sabotage my plans. _Am I __**clear**__?"_

"_Yes sir!"_

"Right!"

"Got it!"

* * *

"It's not going to work," was Movor's pronouncement, once he'd been surface-side long enough to refuel and rejoin the others on the lower decks. "There's no way the Preds are just gonna shut up and do their job 'cause Megatron told 'em. Remember last time?"

The other three peered at him through the gloom of the engineering section. Some parts of it still weren't clean enough to work with, and the Decepticons had homed in on them. 'You've missed a bit' wasn't their usual style, but they were fast learners.

"Which last time?" asked Armorhide.

Ro-tor shrugged. "They were all the same."

Armorhide snorted at him. "That's what I _meant_."

"Well, the job's gotta get done whether they like it or not," Rollbar mused, chiselling off a lump of solidified muck.

"So what do we do?" Ro-tor asked.

"What're we supposed to do?" Movor shook his head. "Get on with our job and let them get it through the lasercore if they don't."

"We can't just let them ruin our mission," Armorhide objected.

"Right," agreed Rollbar. "I bet Optimus Prime would just love to get his hands on the base. 'Specially after the way we left him last time." He looked around at the others as they grimaced. Learning that Optimus Prime could turn _literally_ incandescent with rage had left an… impression.

Movor groaned. "So what, maybe if we ask them nicely, they'll stay out of our way and do what they're supposed to?"

"Armorhide!" Scourge leapt down from the level above and approached, a sharp-edged set of shadows in the low blue lights. The smaller Decepticons turned and spread out to make room for their leader. "You and Mega-Octane will begin the work here," he said, before his gaze shifted to the others. "The rest of you, with me. The humans have some energy waiting for us."

"_Yes sir!"_

* * *

The Autobots' energy-generating facilities largely ran themselves, under T-AI's supervision and with a weekly security inspection by the Spychangers. The Build Team ran the regular maintenance, of course, but REV didn't have to worry about that. He was more concerned with the layout of the site, what its defence systems were like, and its location nestled among steep, windswept hillocks with as much rock showing as there was grass.

Or he was supposed to be. It wasn't easy to concentrate on all that with Optimus's warning on his mind.

He tried to shake it, following Hotshot along the front of the main building. The Spychangers' leader wasn't always easy to read, but he definitely looked subdued himself. Ahead of them, Mirage leaned back from the camera he was checking. _"Thirty-seven looks all right from here," _REV heard him say over the radio as he peered into the lens. _"How about on your end, Ironhide? Can you see this?"_

Ironhide transmitted a distress signal.

"_Very funny."_ Mirage gestured into the camera.

"Now there's a hand signal I don't remember approving," said Hotshot. Mirage twisted on his stepladder, giving a sheepish chuckle as he faced his leader.

"Uh, no. That was… improvisation."

Hotshot nodded and kept strolling, spark not in the banter. Mirage looked at REV curiously, then jumped down from the ladder and followed them. REV didn't give so much as a radio whisper in answer to the marksman's unspoken question. He and Hotshot were both wondering how to tell the others about their new timeframe, but at the end of the day it was the unit leader's decision. REV would wait on it.

"How's your progress?"

"It's all looking good so far," said Crosswise from further along the wall. "The defence systems are up to scratch, and T-AI's link to the computer is working fine."

"We've got a few more cameras to check, but almost all the rest are clear," Mirage added. "W.A.R.S. is replacing one of them."

"Why? What happened to it?"

"We're not quite sure," Crosswise said. "It's a tie between birds and storm damage, though personally I'm betting on both. Nothing suspicious."

"Normally, I'd say 'good', but at least if the Predacons were behind it we'd know where they were targeting," Hotshot sighed. "Have you tested the fire alarms yet?"

Crosswise chuckled as they turned the corner. "No. You can go ahead and-"

Their comlinks activated at the same time. _"Heads up!" _Ironhide yelled.

REV spun with the others; Sky-byte was charging out from the hillocks in robot-mode. The other Predacons were close behind him, transforming from their beast modes as they came.

"I hate Predacons," he said wearily, drawing his blaster. He moved away to the side so he'd have room to fire.

Hotshot looked back at him, visor alight. "This could be our chance," he said, voice low and urgent before he spun back and sprang forward. He planted himself directly in the oncoming Predacons' path and fired a couple of warning shots at the ground in front of them. The mismatched gang skidded to an irregular halt as the other Spychangers joined him.

"Bad luck, Sky-byte. This facility is protected." Hotshot raised his blaster.

"So why don't you protect yourselves and get outta here?" Crosswise added.

"You know, he's got a point…" REV heard Gasskunk mutter.

"I didn't come all the way out here to let some lightweight Autobots get in my way," Sky-byte snapped. The centre of his chest glowed for a moment as energy gathered there. _"Tsunami blaster!"_

Hotshot leapt aside as the blast roared past him. REV and the others took that as their cue to open fire. With any luck, they could keep the trio too busy to ready their lasers-

"_Slag,"_ Ironhide said from the control room._ "Sky-byte just hit a conversion unit. W.A.R.S. is almost with you. Give me a minute to check the damage..."_

"You're already outnumbered, Sky-byte," REV yelled, landing a shot to the shark-bot's chest. Sky-byte yelled in pain and staggered back. "Time to give it up and go home!"

"…_Yep, that's on fire."_

"Yeah!" W.A.R.S. appeared over the roof and jumped down, machine gun at the ready. "And here's a little going-away present!" The Predacons backed away under the renewed assault, and Slapper shouted something about Megatron.

Sky-byte fired another shot, then leapt into the air, transforming. "Retreat!"

"Are we going after them?" W.A.R.S. asked, already shifting to vehicle mode.

"Now's our chance, Hotshot," REV agreed, looking around at his leader. Hotshot was running back towards the building. Sky-byte's blast had left a hole in the wall, and a thickening plume of smoke was wafting from it.

"Go ahead!" the black Spychanger called back. "I'll deal with the fire!"

"Roger!" REV transformed, Crosswise and Mirage following suit. The yellow car leapt ahead the instant his tyres hit the ground. They surged after the retreating Predacons. "Let's go to stealth-mode, guys," said REV. "They don't need to know we're tagging along."

The others radioed confirmation, and REV saw them fade from view as he activated his own cloak. He accelerated as the first drumlin came up and bounded onto it, his wheels catching the turf and propelling him over the lumpy little hill. He could see Sky-byte ahead – and then the downslope coming up – and again he shot forward and leapt onto the next height. It was faster than trying to scramble around them – Spychangers or not, most of them weren't built to handle this kind of terrain.

Another leap, and then he cursed internally as the Predacons disappeared from his sensors.

"_They're not showing on the scanners," _Mirage reported a second later.

"_Happens every time," _REV said, speeding up to try and re-establish sensor contact. Somehow – maddeningly – the Predacons up ahead were pulling away. _"Blasted beast modes. They're not even out of sight yet. Come on guys, we've got to make up this lead!"_

"_I'm trying," _Crosswise responded, _"but I can barely keep them in sight. Where's X-Brawn when you need him?"_

"_I see 'em," _REV said grimly, throwing himself forward with a muffled roar from his engine. He leapt, he raced, he scrambled like no Earth-made car ever could. He was always determined; today he was desperate, but as he pulled himself up to the top of a drumlin and found the Predacons nowhere in sight, he had to admit that this pursuit was lost.

* * *

Cleaning was far too menial a task for Decepticons. Especially when there were thefts to organise and repairs to effect. Most especially when there were enemies to destroy (and there were _always _enemies to destroy). It was disgusting, and time-consuming, and Mega-Octane had just washed. He had better things to do than chores a browbeaten Predacon would balk at.

There were other options. The Megastar had cleaning drones. Mega-Octane had known that for a while, though he'd never seen one operational and couldn't remember how he'd picked up the information. Until now, it hadn't been important.

He hefted the two dull grey machines in his arms as the door rattled open, letting the view – and the smell – of the next engineering section through. He tramped through and set the drones down next to where Armorhide was squatting and poking at the inside of a console.

The tank-former glanced round and gave a respectful nod, then looked at the drones. "Good idea. Don't want to waste _our_ time on drone-work."

"They're old, but they seem to be functional." Mega-Octane nudged one with his foot, then brought the little spider-like mechanism online remotely. There was a whine as it powered up, and then a faint grinding as stiff joints were forced to move. It stood stiffly, scanning its surroundings as the Decepticons watched. Then it turned to the other drone and began to polish it.

"Huh." Armorhide turned back to his work without indicating what that was supposed to mean. Mega-Octane frowned and directed the drone to work on the rest of the room. Once it had moved away, he brought the other, vaguely crab-shaped model online and told it to clean the floor.

"Scourge and the others are already gone," Armorhide told him. "And I haven't seen the Predacons' ugly faceplates since I got here."

"No. They've taken off on their own again. No doubt they'll ruin every plan we make, running loose like that." Mega-Octane scrutinised the equipment grimly. Just what was he supposed to do with that mess? He was trained for basic repairs, not warp engineering.

He shook his head. The question wasn't whether he would do it, only how. With the others to help him he could do it. He'd need the time and concentration. _And some __**efficient**__ help._

"We'd be better off if we could co-ordinate our attacks with the Predacons'..." he thought out loud.

Armorhide snorted. "Good luck with that."

The truck-former glanced at him sharply. "I'm open to suggestions." It wasn't something he'd ever been heard to say before, even in that tone of voice. Suggestions were given, and taken or dismissed without particular recognition of whose they'd been to start with.

Armorhide paused for a moment. "Yeah, Movor suggested we ask 'em nicely." He started sorting a pile of wires into 'obviously useless' and 'possibly OK'. "He keeps up the sarcasm, he's gonna corrode his own motherboard."

Mega-Octane stopped in his scan, thinking. "They _are_ Predacons."

"I know, that's why-" Armorhide broke off and frowned. "Are you saying that could actually work?"

The other Decepticon snorted, crouching down to detach a corroded circuit board and toss it into the scrap pile. "Done right, perhaps. But it'd have to be worth our while."

"Yeah." Behind him, Armorhide thump the console casing to loosen some of the rust inside. "You'd have to be desperate to try making friends with a Predacon."

Unseen, Mega-Octane glanced around at the disaster zone and hesitated.

* * *

The fires were all but gone when they returned to the generator plant. It was hard to tell, though: even outside the air was filled with the wail of alarms and the smell of burned plastic. REV left the others running to turn the sound off and went inside.

He found Hotshot in time to see the black Spychanger gesture at a small blaze. The flames began to curl in on themselves, caught in his energy fields; for a few seconds the fire dwindled steadily, and then extinguished. Hotshot watched it as REV approached behind him.

_That must have been the last of them,_ he thought, as the alarms began to quieten. "At least we know they work."

Hotshot turned, rubbing his head. "Believe me, I've noticed," he said, louder than necessary. "Any thoughts on this little run-in?"

"Add it to last week's attacks and they're definitely stepping up the pace," Crosswise said as he walked in. "I wonder what Megatron's planning this time."

"Maybe he's moving his base again," REV pointed out. "Or he's just speeding things up now that he knows what the Decepticons can do."

"It could be that simple." Hotshot looked around at the mess. "On the other hand, we don't want him blindsiding us with another mega-laser. Either way, we're back to the problem of tracking him down."

Crosswise sighed. "There's just too much we don't know. All we've got is 'they need energy and they need it badly'. Sure, it's got to come from somewhere, but on a planet like this, there's no shortage of opportunities."

"Except for us." Hotshot's visor dimmed as the others looked at him. "I need to have a talk with the team, Crosswise. Optimus gave us some news that all of us need to hear."

Crosswise nodded slowly. He looked at the scattered bits of rubble and singed console. "Got it. But it can wait till we get this place cleaned up, can't it?"

Hotshot slapped his forehead. "I _knew_ there was something I was trying to forget."

* * *

"Another failure," Sky-byte sighed mournfully, shoulders slumping as he paced in circles. The Megastar's grim lighting made it a good place to wallow in one's own misery, without any sunlight or noises (or, Primus forbid, _birds_) to distract him from his sorrow.

"If I could defeat the Autobots at a time like this, Megatron wouldn't have any time for Scourge. But how can I- gyah!" He staggered and doubled over, sparks flying from his injured chest.

"You should probably get that looked at," Slapper said, emerging from a side passage.

"You're not… kidding," Sky-byte ground out, one hand over the damage. "Argh!"

"Sky-byte!" Mega-Octane's voice made the shark-bot jump and turn around. The Decepticon approached. "There you are. We need to talk."

Sky-byte turned and moved away. "Not now, Mega-Octane! I've got a little problem of my own to-"

The Decepticon's hand clamped onto his shoulder. He turned his head to look, and met the masked face hovering over him. "Slapper, get back to work. I'll fix that."

Sky-byte growled, but before he knew it, he was sitting sullenly on a workbench, allowing the Decepticon to repair his damages. It was the damage, he decided. He'd never have allowed Mega-Octane to push him around otherwise.

His initial surprise soon wore off. Of course Mega-Octane would take the opportunity to rub his nose in his failure. He seethed, although the low remarks and comments never came. He waited more, and still the only sounds were the whine of tools being used and the harsh clatter as they were put aside.

Ah, of course, that was it. He hadn't said anything because he was busy laughing to himself.

_If he thinks he can just stand there smirking at me_, _he's got another thing coming, _Sky-byte thought, glaring suspiciously at the Decepticon as he moved around the front. He didn't _look_ like he was smirking, but how could you tell?

Mega-Octane straightened up, about to speak. Sky-byte's gaze snapped his way with a pre-emptive glare. "There. It's done," said the Decepticon heedlessly.

Sky-byte scowled and sprang to his feet. "All right: what's this about, Decepticon? I warn you, don't waste my time."

Mega-Octane sighed. "You heard what Megatron said earlier. Our position is extremely vulnerable. We haven't got the time or the energy to waste by carrying on as we usually do."

"And what is your point?"

"If we keep fighting among ourselves, none of us are going to come out of this alive." He paused, then carried on, stiffly, "I want to call a truce, at least until the Megastar is operational again. We're only going to solve this if we work as a team, Predacons and Decepticons together."

Sky-byte listened, surprised and… gleeful. _After all this, the mighty Decepticons come to seek a truce! Hah!_ _And how do you like it now that you're the ones doing the asking?_

"Hmmm," he said, posing thoughtfully. Mega-Octane shifted slightly, the first clear sign of discomfort he'd given. "A team? My Predacons and your Decepticons?"

"Yes."

The shark-bot scratched his chin. "Maybe… no. He smiled, and turned to go.

Mega-Octane responded immediately. "Hold on a minute, Sky-byte," he said urgently. "Think about it for a minute. We Decepticons were created as your allies – to provide the skills and the firepower you didn't already have. We and the Predacons were never meant to be enemies. But we've allowed an unfortunate misunderstanding-"

"You _fired_ on us!"

Mega-Octane's visor flickered. "You fired on Scourge."

"Bah." Sky-byte scowled, caught out by inconvenient fact. He waved the hand with his shark spike. "I can't be asked to remember all that."

"An unfortunate misunderstanding," repeated Mega-Octane, determined to drive the words home. "And we've allowed it to drive a wedge between us."

Sky-byte frowned. "Do you mean literally or-"

Mega-Octane cut him off, extending an open hand towards him in a gesture that caught the Predacon off-guard as much as his request had. Sky-byte drew back and eyed it warily. "This is the perfect opportunity to rebuild what we've lost," the Decepticon said, a little more quietly. "If we can pull together and combine our strengths, we really would be the lethal force Megatron intended us to be. With our strength and your… creativity, we would be unstoppable. We'd have the Megastar back online and back in action before Megatron could say 'terrorise'."

"Working together? United under one banner?" Sky-byte mused. The idea appealed to his inner artist's finely-tuned sense of drama, but…

"Yes." Mega-Octane hesitated for a second. "As equal partners."

"Do you expect me to trust you?" Sky-byte put his hands on hips and sneered at the Decepticon. "Hah! You Decepticons have done nothing but get in my way since you arrived, and now you want us to be good little Predacons and help you, while you take all the credit!"

"Weren't you listening to a word I said?" Mega-Octane snapped. "This situation is different!"

"Oh really? Just because the base breaks down, now you want to buddy up like scared little Autobots? "

"This is serious, Sky-byte! We have to put an end to this squabbling or we'll all suffer!"

"I don't think so," Sky-byte replied with a growing smirk. Oh, he would enjoy this. A chance to snub Scourge and his lackeys didn't come around every day. _How sweet the turn of fortune's wheel, indeed… whoever said that. _"You think I'm so gullible, don't you? Well, let this be a lesson, Decepticon! You can't dupe a shark!" He threw back his head, laughing in victorious glee at Mega-Octane's faceplate just before he turned his back.

There came an indistinct "Gah!" and the ringing sound of a metallic impact from behind him. Sky-byte gave a delighted chortle and went on about his suddenly much merrier day.

* * *

Spychanger HQ was home to an elite unit, stationed on Earth just long enough to have a sense of it as their turf, used to an exceptionally high rate of mission success, highly motivated, highly skilled, and highly aware of their ability to completely defy natural odds.

It did not make a receptive environment for Hotshot's announcement.

"I can't believe they're going to pull us off the search," W.A.R.S. growled.

"It's only temporary," said REV. He stood by the main console, watching the others' reactions where they were scattered around the room. The computers were unusually silent: T-AI was omnipresent in the Autobot bases, but the AI had the wisdom to stay out of some discussions. "If T-AI can get anything out of that microchip…"

"Optimus is right, though," Ironhide said reluctantly. "We've got other responsibilities: we can't ignore _them_ either."

W.A.R.S. twisted the empty can in his hands until the metal tore, drawing a wary stare from Crosswise. "I understand _why_." He threw the pieces into the waste chute across the room. "I don't have to like it. Doctor Onishi's in danger every minute we don't find him."

Mirage spoke up. "I'm with W.A.R.S. on this. We've been searching for him this long, it doesn't feel right to just walk away."

"I know," said Hotshot. "And it's not only about saving a life. If the doctor is still alive, the information he has makes him a dangerous weapon for Megatron."

"Exactly!" W.A.R.S. looked around at them, optics flaring red. REV's liking for the way the team was taking this dropped about six notches. "Didn't T-AI say the Decepticons were attacking a plant right now?"

"Kinda proves Optimus's point, doesn't it?" said Crosswise quietly. They were silent for a few minutes. REV sighed to himself. He was tired, and somewhere between the complaints, the argument and the feeling of failure, apathy had settled lightly on his shoulders like a blanket of fallen ash.

"We always knew the risks were high for the doctor," Hotshot said into the silence. "There was no guarantee we'd find him."

"But we're Spychangers," Mirage said, frustration marring his low voice. "We're the best there is."

"We are." Hotshot told him, and REV could hear from his voice that he believed it. "And Optimus knows we are, too. But sometimes doing your job well means knowing when to pull out and go where you're needed most."

Hotshot gave that exactly half a second to sink in. Then he looked directly at REV and gestured for him to come over. "That _said_, we're not out of time yet." His optic visor narrowed and brightened in a grim smile. "And neither is Doctor Onishi."

"We don't even know how long we've got left," REV said, finding himself walking toward the table before he knew it. He looked up at Hotshot, and gave up any ideas of protesting. He keyed the hologram display on. "…So if we want a last shot at saving anyone, we've got to come up with it fast."

* * *

The Autobots believed they had won. For now, he was required to allow them that, and it grated on Scourge's circuits. Knowing that he and his troops had succeeded in getting part of the energy they had hoped for (and most of what he'd expected them to obtain) was small consolation. It certainly didn't make up for Sideburn's cocky whooping as they pulled out.

So although when he came into the primary engine room, Ro-tor and Rollbar were carrying full tanks, Scourge was not in a particularly good mood.

Armorhide was the only one in sight. He stood to attention as Scourge approached. The room seemed substantially cleaner than when they'd left, the black Decepticon noticed. Probably because most of the dirt had transferred itself onto Armorhide.

"We've brought more energy to add to the converters," he said, sweeping an arm around to gesture at the two behind him. "What progress have you made?"

"Well, enough of the sludge is gone that we can start to really get to work," Armorhide informed him.

"Don't tell me you spent this whole time _scrubbing_," Ro-tor said.

Armorhide glanced past Scourge at him. "Yeah, right. Mega-Octane had the bright idea to fix up some drones and get them to do the job."

"Really," said Scourge. Their attention shifted back to him. "How thoughtful of him."

"Pretty smart," Armorhide agreed. "We've started taking the place apart and stripping out the junk. There's a list of parts we need already."

Scourge gave a nod. _Wonderful. Now we have ourselves a _shopping list. "Where is Mega-Octane?"

"With Sky-byte. Mega-Octane wants to talk to him alone."

Scourge stilled, gaze sharpening as he stared at him. "What?"

Armorhide's visor flickered, the grubby tank-bot shifting with uncustomary wariness. "They went up to the repair bay."

Scourge turned, Ro-tor and Rollbar stepping back before him. They stared at him over the tops of their armloads. "Deal with those," he snapped, storming between them and out of the room, intent on hunting Mega-Octane down and wringing an explanation from him. _What has he been playing at in my absence?_

He found his target a second after he stepped from the elevator. Mega-Octane was approaching, obviously on his way back to work. Disappointing that Sky-byte wasn't there to explain himself, but Mega-Octane would do. He halted and gave his commander a nod. "Sir."

Scourge didn't slow as he drew near, moving forward swift as a falling blade until he stopped, just at the point where he was too close for comfort. (But no closer, because he wanted room to throttle the other mech if it came up, and also to avoid having to tilt his head back too far to look up at Mega-Octane.)

"What have you been doing?" he demanded. The taller mech hesitated, obviously aware that he should tread cautiously. Scourge's annoyance sharpened into suspicion.

"We've made progress on the repair work," Mega-Octane said. "And I've just had a talk with Sky-byte. His little scheme was a disaster: without repairs to his arm he'd have been totally useless. Next time I'll just leave him crippled," he added with a growl.

"Pathetic," Scourge said, his voice purring with contemptuous satisfaction. "So instead you spared a mega-cycle to tend to his suffering. How _compassionate._" Mega-Octane's gaze snapped up to meet his. Scourge snorted. "Just what were you trying to do with that scrapyard reject?"

"I was thinking we could get the Predacons out of our way for a while. If Sky-byte was convinced we were on his side, he might actually stop interfering with us…" Mega-Octane scowled. "I should have known better than to expect reason from a two-bit tuna."

"I could have told you that." Scourge relaxed, mollified by the other's failure as much as the explanation. "Keep to the orders you've been given instead of wasting our time. Now, show me the materials we need…"

Typical of Mega-Octane to try the 'diplomatic' approach, even after the fiasco that had come of pretending to defect. Perhaps his little bout of initiative was nothing to be concerned about, after that. He had to have known how well Scourge would like his idea.

Or perhaps, after the last time, Mega-Octane didn't trust him with it.

Busy with his report, the other Decepticon didn't notice Scourge's optics narrow beneath his helm.

* * *

He had no idea how long it had been. He was barely ever awake now: he drifted through hazy awareness and true oblivion, half-formed dreams and occasional wakefulness. That was mostly when they left him food, and all his concentration was on making himself force down what he wasn't hungry for, swallow the stinking water despite his closed throat. For a while the aches and the stiffness had become so numbing he'd tried to let himself forget he could feel anything at all. He was grateful for them now. He'd decided they were good reminders that the world was real.

He didn't have time to think – time, or strength. He ate and he curled up in the darkness, not wanting to sleep, too weak to do anything with his awareness. The room he was in – a room or a box, he wasn't sure – was solid metal. They'd thrown in some blankets, but it was still cold and hard beneath them. Sometimes he took off his coat and balled it up into a pillow. He acted without thinking, didn't stop to ask why or whether it was worth it. He kept going.

He had to keep fighting. He remembered that, held onto that, among other things. He struggled even to open the tins of food now. It felt pathetic, but he needed it. He needed all the strength he could keep.

Often his captors seemed to forget about him, and even in his exhausted state, that made him despair. They always came in the end, though, to throw something in or to drag him back to the light and the sickening, lulling hum and the questions. There was a machine, he was aware, to which they brought him to when they tried to open his mind for the knowledge they wanted.

He wouldn't give it to them. At first he'd been determined not to surrender to them, not to give the monsters what they needed to destroy his world and his home. His determination had been fierce. Now he was just so tired. He almost wondered if the outside world was real, and in a detached way he thought that that might be where other people would fall. If you began to think that none of your old life was really real, if you let yourself think that this seesaw of waking and dreaming, the cold and the metal and the dull ache in head and bone and throat was all there was and nothing more… it would be easy to give them what they wanted, then. Easy to betray a world that wasn't real to you, any more.

He might have fallen for that, if he hadn't been so close to it. If he hadn't seen so much of his world and been sure of its reality – if he hadn't felt sun-warmed rock under his hands and gravity tugging at his back – the warm, damp smell of the rainforest – tracing ancient carvings with his fingers – a roar and a cold burst of spray above white-painted railings – the taste of overcooked squid – green ice and glowing blue feathers-

Laughter from his wife, showing his son how to pump up his bike's tyres-

He was certain they were real. He held onto them.

Sometimes, as now, when he could think, he buried himself in memory, and reminded himself that all of this had happened. He had suffered before for his work, hadn't he? He could survive for more.

Sometimes he wondered if anyone was looking for him. He wondered where they should look. If they knew he was alive.

He wouldn't give in to his captors. He wouldn't give them what he wanted. His mind was so clenched in refusal, it was possible he couldn't help them if he wanted to.

Kenneth Onishi survived. That was all.


	3. Scoring Points, Losing Ground

_Fact: Megatron's POV is scarily fun to write._

_Also, many thanks to those who reviewed for your comments and encouragement! I'm very glad to hear I'm on the right track; here's hoping I can keep going on it. Please do keep sending the reviews, but first on with the next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter Three: Scoring Points, Losing Ground**

Sky-byte hummed loudly to the sky outside the Megastar. He felt revitalised, invigorated, positively _inspired_ by his stand against Mega-Octane. All stain of previous failure was washed away by this splash of triumph on a spectacularly disappointing week. Perhaps he would write another poem about it later – yes, he thought it was worth two at least. But first, he felt freshly encouraged to come up with something that would catch Scourge on the back foot the way his second-in-command had just been.

Too bad the other Predacons weren't possessed by the same zeal.

"So where're we supposed to go, anyway?" Gasskunk asked, picking at the grass. They were sitting on a hill a few miles from the base, out of Decepticon visual range. "I don't see a whole lot of power stations around here."

"We need to find somewhere vitally important," Sky-byte thought aloud. "A bold and daring raid that will win us all the energy Megatron could want."

"Aren't we supposed to be keeping our heads down?" Slapper asked. "I kinda _liked_ that plan…"

"Yeah," Darkscream chimed in, "you heard what Megatron said. We don't want to get the Autobots' attention."

"Ah," said Sky-byte. The shark turned to face them, mismatched eyes aglow. "But that is where my plan is truly brilliant. If we pull off a truly daring attack, the Autobots will never dream that we're really in a position of weakness!"

"So you're gonna bluff them before they think you've got anything to bluff about?" Slapper rubbed his chin with a webbed hand. "That's… pretty sneaky, I guess."

"Yeah, but what if they _call_ your bluff?" Gasskunk pointed out.

"They can't," Sky-byte said smugly. "They still have no idea where we are. Besides, those cowards would never dare."

"Sure I've heard that one before," Slapper muttered. Sky-byte shot him a glare, then returned to pondering.

"We just need to find somewhere worth attacking…"

"You could try asking Movor, he's the one who's supposed to know where all the Autobots are." Gasskunk shrugged.

Slapper snorted. "Are you nuts? There's no way he's going to help us, he's a Decepticon."

"Right," Darkscream agreed. "You know what those guys think of us."

"Hrmmm…" Sky-byte turned away, frowning to himself. "You're right, we can't expect help from them… unless…" His eyes widened as the pleasant thought occurred that he _could _get what he wanted.

"Sky-byte, terrorise!" He sprang up, transforming, and landed feet-first on the ground. "Maybe we can ask for some advice after all…" He activated his comlink, opening a channel to the shuttle Decepticon far above in orbit.

"Any bets on what he's doing now?" he heard Gasskunk ask behind him.

"Calling tourist information?" Slapper suggested.

"Hey, if it worked in Greece…" Darkscream shrugged.

Movor's image appeared on the projected screen in front of Sky-byte. _"What do you want, finhead?"_

"_Listen, Decepticon, we don't have time to trade insults. All you need to tell me is if there's a power plant worth stealing from in my area."_

"_Sure there is. The Autobots have a whole set of turbines going around there."_

Sky-byte looked around, but the only things breaking the skyline were trees and telegraph poles. _"Where?"_

"_Hey, I told you there is one. That's all you asked for."_

Sky-byte gritted his teeth in frustration. _"Just tell me where it is!"_

"_Give me one good reason why I should _help_ you screw up our strategy this time."_

"_Why don't you ask Mega-Octane?" _Sky-byte asked sweetly. He was rewarded by the sight of Movor's faceplate twisting in surprise.

"_What's that supposed to mean?" _the white Decepticon asked suspiciously.

"_It means your commander is the one who wants us to work together, so you'd better help us or else _you'll_ be the one screwing up strategies. How do you like the sound of smelter duty for the next solar cycle?"_

"_You have got to be kidding me."_

"_Then ask him yourself," _Sky-byte smirked. This was usually the risky bit, if they actually did it. This time, however, he was sure of the response.

"_Oh, I'm already on it." _Movor's image disappeared, although the link was still open. Sky-byte waited, smugly victorious.

"Is it actually working?" Slapper stared, optics narrowed incredulously.

"I dunno, I haven't heard any directions yet," said Gasskunk doubtfully. Sky-byte glared at them until Movor reappeared.

_"All right, head east a couple of kilometres until you hit the road with actual surfacing, then take a left and follow it into the hills…"_

_"So you decided to help us after all. Smart decision."_

The Decepticon's visor was bright with annoyance. _"Yeah, have it your way, Sky-byte."_

_"Oh, I don't mind if I do." _Sky-byte smirked. Then, to Slapper's sniggering amusement, he made Movor repeat the directions.

* * *

Rollbar clamped the hose end to the ship's hull and activated it, feeling the vibration as the mechanism pierced the surface. You weren't supposed to do this underwater, but it wasn't going to matter.

_"We're connected,"_ he reported over the comlink, looking down along the hose. It hung in the water, trailing down to the black tanker sitting on the seabed.

_"Good,"_ said Scourge, a bit more curtly than usual. _"Activating pumps now. I want to be out of here as soon as possible."_

_"Yes sir."_ Rollbar leaned against the hull and looked up towards the shadow of the docks. Between the ship and the dockside, the sun was filtering through the waves: it was the kind of day even humans liked to get outdoors. He wondered how long it would take the crew to notice that their ship's cargo was disappearing under their noses.

Maybe they wouldn't; the container Scourge had traded his trailer in for could hold a lot more than it looked like it should, but it was hardly anything next to the tanker ship's capacity. He didn't know how sensitive their instruments were. But even if the Autobots were called out, the two Decepticons would be gone well before they arrived.

_"Almost finished,"_ Scourge said. _"We should have all the energy we need soon._ _Then we can return to pursuing our real goals."_

_"Right."_ To Rollbar, his leader's eagerness to get back to fighting Autobots and hunting bigger energy sources was pretty amusing. That didn't stop him sharing it. _The sooner we can get back to doing our job instead of cleaning up after Predacons…_

His line of thought trailed off and he looked back down at Scourge. It was funny. He and the black Decepticon weren't exactly debating partners, but their not talking had never felt like this before…

_This is what you call an awkward silence,_ he mused.

They just weren't used to being stuck alone with each other, without a battle to focus on. Heck, Rollbar wasn't the chattiest of his team-mates, and Scourge only occasionally deigned to make a contribution to their conversations. When there weren't orders to give or other people to listen to it stuck out like a bullet train on a baseball field.

Or it did to Rollbar. Scourge was busy caught up in his own thoughts, as usual. And he complained about Movor daydreaming. Rollbar chuckled, careful not to do it over the comlink, and tipped his head back against the hull, making the most of the scattered sunlight as he listened to the fuel drain from the ship.

_"That's enough,"_ Scourge said abruptly. _"Disconnect the pumps and we'll leave."_

"Yes sir." He disconnected the clamp and pulled the end of the hose away from the ship. Immediately oil bulged from the neatly drilled hole and spilled through, billowing out like black smoke, wisps trailing away as they were caught up by the water. Rollbar kicked away hastily. He didn't need to get any of that gunk on his armour – the silt and fish-dust down here were bad enough. Scourge had disconnected the other end already. Rollbar folded it up hastily, then moved back to the rupture in the hull. By now he could practically hear the vibrations of running feet, bleeping alarms, shouting humans…

He gave what he could see of the hole a once over. It was surrounded by cracks: the clamps cut neatly when they went in, but they were designed to do more damage when you disconnected them. Rollbar almost stopped to sigh as he reached through the current of oil, feeling the edges of the hole with his fingers, then drew back and punched for the weakest point.

The metal split apart in all directions, tearing and fracturing enough to obscure the original damage. Rollbar shook his arm off in the cleaner water for all the good it did, then dove after Scourge as the truck moved off.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Slapper doubtfully. Ahead of the four Predacons, the grass sloped down to a peaceful lake amid the hills. The water was sparkling blue in the sunshine. And, indeed, there was a building nearby that could house an Autobot facility, if they hunched down _really_ far to get inside…

But it looked an awful lot like an ordinary windmill to Slapper.

"Rocket-head must have given us the wrong directions," Gasskunk agreed. "There's no way they're hiding a generator in there."

Slapper eyed the water. He was a toad, the sun was hot, and it looked so nice and cool in there... "I'll bet he was just yanking our chain again," he said, about to suggest they just call it off and go for a swim.

Sky-byte stiffened and snapped around, claw-arm raised and waving angrily. "You doubt the genius of my plan? He must be telling the truth! Now get down there and attack that building!"

"Right!" Gasskunk yelped, faced with Sky-byte's glare nearly in his face. Slapper shrugged and powered up the laser in his shoulder. It was too peaceful around here anyway.

* * *

Movor waited until the Predacons far below had levelled the site and started making confused noises before he commed them. _"Not **that** windmill, guys. The **other** one!"_

_"Keep them busy,"_ Mega-Octane said on a Decepticon channel, _"and keep them out of my way. I don't want to see Sky-byte and his shoal back here before sundown."_

_"Just over the next hill… well, the next big hill… Big enough for me to see from up here, of course."_ He switched channels to reply, _"Just leave it to me, Mega-Octane. I can give these idiots the runaround all day."_

_"I'm sure,"_ came the sardonic reply. Movor was very careful to keep his response to himself.

* * *

Megatron stood with his back to his chair, staring at the long-range sensor display. Scourge had returned from the day's work and stood waiting behind him, unfazed as he should be by his leader's silence. It wasn't for him to hurry Megatron.

In his mind, the Predacon leader was running through the problems, the things that could go wrong – what they would do if they found some problem their limited engineering resources couldn't fix. Mega-Octane was a competent maintenance 'bot, particularly when it came to his team-mates, and even Sky-byte knew something about electronics and design. Slapper's computer skills mostly extended to cracking the codes, but that didn't mean he couldn't correct as well as corrupt.

It wasn't really enough. Megatron was probably the most technically skilled, but even his knowledge was primarily about programming and the design of other Transformers. He knew about ships, and he knew the Megastar's systems on a larger scale. If something went wrong with the computers or an airlock, or even the energon smelters, he would know what to do.

That didn't make him a transwarp engineer. None of them were. The technology on which the newest Predacon warships ran was modern (therefore little-understood) and in the right hands extremely powerful (therefore tightly-controlled). The Decepticons might have been trained in working with it, if they hadn't gone into stasis years before the Autobots brought the technology online.

Megatron had commanded other ships, the best of the Predacons' war fleet (though still built to standard designs). He'd had the obedience of troops whose combined power outweighed the Megastar's, and wielded the greatest weapons of his time. None of these things had compared to the physical thrill of the Megastar plugged into his systems, the ship's power responding to his every whim…

If they lost it – and he hardly dared think it – if they lost it, the Elders might decide his expenses outweighed his value and withdraw their support. And if they were in the mood to find favour with the Autobots, Optimus Prime might get a friendly transmission regarding some fresh intelligence…

Megatron sighed, and reassured himself that the decay was only in the cruder parts of the ship's workings, and not that extensive. The delicate components would be safe.

"Sir?"

More to the point, he had competent underlings at his service now. Megatron nodded to himself and turned to Scourge.

"Our progress is better than I expected," he said. "But there is still a chance that the Autobots might discover our location." He stepped closer to Scourge. "You will see that these instructions are carried out. If they should find the base, I will be ready for them…"

* * *

Movor did his job well. It was an hour after sundown when Mega-Octane faced Sky-byte, welder in hand, and considered the application of one to the other while the Predacon shouted. Hadn't he been here once this week?

This time, they were down by the engines, and Mega-Octane had the happy thought that he didn't have to repair the shark. More like the reverse, with the mood Scourge was in…

"You and your space-cased lackey set us up!" Sky-byte shouted. "My entire day has been wasted in hunting for made-up Autobot bases!" Behind him, one of the cleaning drones still running loose scooted up unnoticed and began to scrub at his shin. Mega-Octane didn't comment.

Sky-byte glared at him, voice lowering until it was barely audible over the sounds of cracking metal from Armorhide's vicinity. "Don't tell me you've lost interest in our alliance?"

"As you said, Sky-byte," Mega-Octane inspected the tool he was holding, then shoved it into Sky-byte's hands while the Predacon looked outraged. "We don't have one."

The Predacon turned it over, glaring at it. "What's this for, taking your miserable shell apart with?"

Mega-Octane snorted. "You wish. Get up to level three and start checking the navigation banks. If they're not programmed correctly when I come to look at them, you'll be joining the rest of the scrap in the smelter."

He strode away towards Armorhide and Gasskunk, leaving Sky-byte fuming in his wake.

Mega-Octane was preoccupied with his own mounting frustration. He'd thought this job was too much to handle _before_. The further they got into the Megastar's systems, the worse it got. The base was more like a living Transformer than an inanimate ship, and one built to Predacon logic at that. It was more complex than it should be: systems that should be self-contained and automated had sixteen links to other systems instead; there were joints and sensory nets in places that made no sense, places they could never be used.

If they had access to the full data on the Megastar, it would help enormously. But not even Scourge had that, and Megatron was set on keeping it to himself. They had to stick with the limited schematics they had.

It demanded more components than made sense. It consumed time like the converters consumed batteries. It made simple repairs painstaking, and for Mega-Octane, whose engineering knowledge sometimes felt more like intuition, it made every hour into a stroll through a Spychanger security grid with a busted nav system.

He glanced at the others. Make that one with a bunch of blind mechs.

And on top of that he had Scourge to deal with. After the last couple of weeks, Mega-Octane thought he understood how to handle his commander. The understanding didn't stop his instincts urging caution. As far as he could tell, Scourge was a wild card, a force fuelled by his own anger and beyond the control of anyone but Megatron. One the rest of the Decepticons had to follow.

It was critical that he avoided antagonising Scourge. The commander's mood was already black enough. And the Decepticons – and by extension their master - could not afford a leader ruled by his ill temper. Now more than ever.

Under the circumstances, it was only a matter of time before something set him off.

Mega-Octane shrugged resignedly, and saved his attention for the Megastar.

* * *

The Spychangers had gathered in the room that they generally called a lab. The really specialised work and most of their repairs were carried out at the main headquarters, but Crosswise still used this one most of the time and it was, in their minds, the room where science took place.

"So our best option is still to get some kind of tracker onto them that's strong enough to follow," Mirage summed up their conversation.

"And it has to be strong enough to follow without them noticing it," said Ironhide. "Good luck with that."

"Actually, I think that's the easy part." Hotshot smirked. "We can sneak a flare right under their noses if we wrap it up and call it a power source."

"That's still no guarantee," REV pointed out. "We have to be in the right area to pick up on the tracer, and that's after we get them to use it."

"Getting fuel to the Predacons shouldn't be hard," Ironhide said, "considering how much trouble we have keeping it away from them."

"But we have to find a way of keeping up with them," said Crosswise. "If we do this wrong, we might end up in the right area just to have them take off before we find the base."

Hotshot weighed their chances of success, as he knew all of them were doing in their own minds. The plan they were putting together wasn't perfect, but it was the best hope they had.

"Spychangers!" One of the computer screens activated as T-AI used it to display her image. "I've confirmed reports of Predacon attacks in sector twenty-three. The damage is minimal and I'm not sure what they're up to, but you might want to see these reports…"

* * *

Armorhide wrenched the lid off the next crate and slung it aside. Bringing home boxes of materials wasn't so hard, but the winning raiding parties were the ones that didn't waste time neatly boxing their haul. So someone had to sort through the mess and find the things they could actually use.

_More slagging cables. We better have a use for all of these or I'm gonna make Gasskunk **eat** them_. He lifted out a handful. Mega-Octane was moving elsewhere on the deck, dragging another disconnected module out from its housing. The scraping metal echoed through the floor, along with the lighter skittering as the two cleaning drones ran around, still polishing at will and mostly ignored.

A circuit-cracking snap echoed from the walls. Armorhide jerked his head up. Across the room, smoke curled out behind a drone as it moved away from a panel of exposed circuitry, unfazed by the damage it had just caused.

"Put out the fire!" Mega-Octane snapped, running for the drone. The little machine promptly changed course and evaded the Commando, hurtling for another open panel. Armorhide abandoned his crate of components and launched himself at the extinguisher in the corner.

He turned and saw Mega-Octane about to make a grab for the little drone. There was a crackle from across the room. The spider-like drone was following the other's example, and while Mega-Octane was distracted the first drone reached its target…

Armorhide didn't do distraction. He put out the first fire as ordered and went straight for the second. Behind him, he heard and felt through the floor as Mega-Octane thundered after the ex-floor-sweeper. This time he didn't slow down as he caught up. With a crunch the drone was booted across the floor and slammed into a wall.

Satisfied, Armorhide aimed the extinguisher at a third fire and pulled the trigger. The old equipment jammed in his hand; not a puff came from the nozzle.

The tank-bot growled and dropped the handle, grabbing the top of the canister and twisting. The metal strained and the canister tore apart, and he upended the contents over the fire. The flames disappeared under the smothering gas.

He turned back to the main problem. The spider-like drone was scuttling high over the equipment, out of even Mega-Octane's reach. The bigger Decepticon ran over to his side. He snatched a broken canister half from Armorhide's raised hand and hurled it. It shot through the air and caught the drone full-on. The haywire mechanism came clanging to the floor.

Mega-Octane stamped over to pick it up, growling. Armorhide came up beside him. The console beside them was still smouldering, flames starting to appear. Still watching his leader, Armorhide planted a hand over them and pressed.

"I guess they weren't as fixed as you thought," he said, feeling the fire go out under his palm with a faint tingling flicker.

Mega-Octane glared at the offlined drone. He wouldn't like the idea he'd made a mistake. "They were working perfectly earlier."

Armorhide looked around at the wrecked circuit boards. "It's gonna take us even longer to fix them now."

Mega-Octane looked up and scanned the room, visor narrowed sharply. "Funny way of going haywire."

Armorhide shrugged. "That's what you get for using ancient Predacon junk."

"Yeah." Mega-Octane tossed the broken drone into a corner. "Let's get back on schedule. Then we can take a closer look at these things."

* * *

There was no mistaking Megatron's heavy tread on the deck, but oddly it was the sound of Scourge's footsteps which caught Mega-Octane's attention first.

"Mega-Octane, report," Megatron demanded. The green Decepticon stiffened, letting the packages in his hands fall back into the crate and turning as he straightened up. Even Armorhide halted his search through the supplies and stood to attention.

Mega-Octane gave a respectful nod as Megatron looked down at him. "Megatron, sir. We've almost completed this section. Fortunately none of the more complex modules have been damaged: all that's left are a few replacements and simple repairs."

"Hm." Megatron nodded slightly. He looked up and past the two Decepticons, to the massive generator housings. "The truly irreplaceable components are located more securely within the base. What are you doing now?"

"Well, we've finished checking the transwarp cells." They were depleted but otherwise fine - as far as Mega-Octane could tell. He was a fair maintenance technician; he wasn't a scientist. And their depletion was a grim problem in its own right: he had a new appreciation for the colossal power the ship's engines wielded – and which they required. "We just have to install a few components for the interface between the transwarp system and the main computer, and then bring the self-repair unit back online. That should take care of the rest."

Megatron gave another half nod, his gaze moving back down to them. "How long?"

"At this rate, we can complete the work in another week."

"I see," Megatron said, dissatisfaction in his voice. To the side, Mega-Octane could see Scourge watching carefully, but the other truck-former didn't seem any more worried than he was. Megatron was concerned, but what could anyone do about that?

"Lord Megatron," said Sky-byte. They looked around, the Decepticons glaring at the suddenly-appearing 'bot. "If I might be so bold as to make a suggestion…"

"What is it, Sky-byte?" Megatron asked with disinterest.

"Why don't you inspect the components yourself, to save time? After all, your technical expertise is far greater than ours and it wouldn't do to install faulty components by mistake…"

"I can promise you, the parts we obtained are perfectly functional," Scourge said coldly.

"Right." Mega-Octane gave a nod. They'd been fine when he'd seen them. Megatron wouldn't need to-

"Good idea," said Megatron. The Decepticons turned to him in surprise.

"Sir?" Mega-Octane glanced at Scourge as his commander spoke, and saw his optics narrowed in what was hopefully just a frown. He could pick up on the anger beneath the front. Scourge had been a power core on overload for the last week, and they'd been lucky he hadn't had a reason to lose it...

_Until now._

Megatron looked at him as he moved forward in Mega-Octane's direction, either not noticing or not caring about his subordinate's fury. "I will examine the components personally. We don't want any problems later now, do we?"

"And what harm could it possibly do for Megatron to look at them?" Sky-byte added, grinning like the idiot he was. He obviously thought he was onto something.

Mega-Octane's visor narrowed. _I'll fillet that treacherous little bottom-feeder and stake him out in the sun to dry, _he swore silently. _Scourge can **have** the Autobots_.

"Yes sir," Scourge ignored Sky-byte and inclined his head to Megatron, optics glowing furiously.

"Well then, Mega-Octane." Megatron's gaze focused on the Decepticon on front of him expectantly.

"Sir." Mega-Octane straightened and met his leader's gaze before Megatron could continue. "There's just one small problem: we can't locate the components at the moment."

Megatron frowned, optics narrowing. "But you told me you had secured all the parts you needed for this section."

"Yes, sir." Mega-Octane resisted looking in Scourge's direction. "We just can't locate them _now_." He heard Armorhide stepping up by his flank.

Megatron glanced between them. "Are you trying to tell me," he said, and his dangerously quiet tone sent a tremor through them like the first hint of an earthquake, "that you have _lost_ the components my ship desperately needs to function?"

Mega-Octane almost wavered, but held his position. "Temporarily-"

The massive Predacon snarled and loomed forward suddenly, black wings spreading until red optics and purple armour filled the wincing Decepticons' view. Mega-Octane flinched and stepped back, unsettled and ashamed. It disgusted them when their master was displeased, angered them when he had cause to shout, and this time it was for such a stupid, stupid lapse on their part…

"What kind of servants are you?" Megatron shouted. He turned enough to bring Scourge into his field of fire. Now Mega-Octane risked a glance at the other Decepticon, but Scourge was looking back at Megatron, his expression unreadable. His fists were clenched. Megatron snarled again. "I gave you the power to be the greatest combat force on the planet, and you can't even hold onto a few packages!"

"It just goes to show that _power_ doesn't equal intelligence," observed Sky-byte, moving around Megatron's wing.

_"SILENCE!"_

"Of course, Megatron." The shark-bot met Scourge's gaze and murmured, "I wouldn't dream of interrupting you."

"Megatron," said Scourge, stepping forward, "we will find them, and I promise you we will make up the lost time."

Mega-Octane was glad he couldn't see Megatron's expression as he looked at the black Decepticon. "For your sake, Scourge…"

"Ah, Lord Megatron?" Sky-byte stepped around the bigger Predacon's side, putting himself temptingly in range of Mega-Octane's fist. The Decepticon eyed him sullenly, wondering what he was up to now. "I might be able to help."

"Oh really?" Megatron turned, still tense with anger, but his wings folding behind him.

Sky-byte bowed. "Yes, sir. I was afraid we couldn't rely on these bunglers to do a simple job-" and he held out a box, "so I took the precaution of obtaining a few spares."

"You thieving little mudworm!" Mega-Octane started forward involuntarily. He didn't notice how his commanders reacted: all his furious attention was trained on the smirking sycophant in front of him. "You must have stolen them from us!"

"Yeah, like when we were busy with the drones," Armorhide chipped in.

"Really now, and after all the help I've given you." Sky-byte had the gall to stand his ground, holding the box in front of him like a forcefield generator. "Why would I need to steal from my dear Decepticon allies? We are on the same side, aren't we?"

"Right," Armorhide growled, "and it's just a coincidence you've got the same parts we lost? You probably found them in a windmill, huh?"

"I told you, I brought my own spares." Sky-byte held the box closer to his chest and smiled knowingly. "Besides, you've lost things before, haven't you? Welding torches, Autobot bases, battles…"

"And I'll bet you were behind those, too." Mega-Octane's arm ached with the wish to punch Sky-byte.

_"ENOUGH!"_

All of them moved away from Megatron as they looked around at him, the Decepticons hopeful, Sky-byte smirking. The smirk vanished from the Predacon's face as his realised Megatron was glaring at both sides in rage.

"I have already told you how important these repairs are," he snarled, seeming to fill the room as he stepped forward, massive fists clenching. Behind him, Scourge was looking wary: the black Decepticon's sensors were the most sensitive to power levels, and anyone with a functioning sensor grid could see the way Megatron's weapons were beginning to charge.

_"I do not care about your games,"_ he went on, transforming to dragon-mode. One head lowered to face Mega-Octane directly; the other stared at Sky-byte. "_I do not have time for your squabbles. You will hand over what the Decepticons need, Sky-byte, and you, Mega-Octane, will install it. There will be no more delays, and if any one of you tries to waste my time with this foolishness, I will rip out his lasercore and feed that to the Megastar, because I **will** be watching. AM I CLEAR?"_

Mega-Octane snapped to attention, immediately obedient. "Yes sir!" Armorhide echoed the response.

Sky-byte bowed slightly, looking alarmed. "Of course, Megatron."

The dragon's optics narrowed, but he gave a 'hn' of acceptance. The head in front of Mega-Octane drew back; the other turned to Scourge. "Scourge, you have my orders for the Decepticons. As for you, Sky-byte, I have another use for your assistance."

"Why, sir!" Sky-byte straightened, his free hand on his chest. "Of course I would be honoured to help in any way I can!"

"Of course." Megatron turned towards the door. "Then come. I believe it's time we consulted our dear in-house doctor."

Mega-Octane stepped closer in time to see a familiar hunted expression on the shark-bot's face.

_Well, well now…_ He looked closely as he pulled the box of components from Sky-byte's claws. Sky-byte didn't seem to notice.

"I do hope you haven't _lost him_," Megatron was saying. It was the closest he'd come to insulting the Decepticons in months. And yet, as Sky-byte laughed nervously and scurried after him, Mega-Octane felt suddenly rather cheerful.

At least, he did until he turned and saw the way Scourge was looking at him.

* * *

It was always the thing you'd forgotten about, Sky-byte thought gloomily, that bit you hardest in the tail.

Looking after Doctor Onishi was about the only important (really important, not boring-important like the menial work of airlock maintenance) duty left to the

Predacons. The Decepticons, predictably, weren't interested in anything that didn't involve battle and mindless violence. Babysitting a human, even one Megatron had gone out of his way to capture, wasn't the kind of easy glory that Scourge could appreciate. And despite his early interest, Megatron had hardly bothered with the human's information in weeks.

Admittedly, Sky-byte himself had also allowed himself to be distracted by the other opportunities that had cropped up. In fact, he'd completely forgotten about Onishi during the last week, and now he was frantically contacting the other Predacons for reassurance that someone had remembered to feed the man.

Reassurance, or a scapegoat. Sky-byte never was picky about how he escaped certain doom.

As it happened, no-one remembered checking on the doctor in the last few days, although Slapper was sure he'd changed the water 'and stuff' not long ago. All of them were positive that it wasn't their turn to do anything, and after both Gasskunk and Darkscream said they thought it was Sky-byte's turn, he dropped the link and tried not to think about it.

It was with some trepidation that he opened the box they'd been holding Onishi in. The shark-bot was horribly aware of Megatron peering over his shoulder.

"Ugh." Megatron drew back slightly at the smell. "Humans."

Sky-byte nodded, too distracted to care. He caught the limp human by the shoulder and lifted him from where he was slumped.

Doctor Onishi was still wearing the clothes he'd worn the day Megatron took him from the conference, although his white coat was balled up in one corner. Sky-byte had found him using it as a pillow once. It wasn't hard to see why he smelt: the stains and rumples of his clothes, and the mixed sweat and grime on his skin reminded the Predacon that they never had gotten around to giving him a bath. Sky-byte held his nose absently as he peered closer, anxious to see if the doctor was actually alive under the mess.

"He appears to be dead." Megatron sounded disgusted. "And what are those red marks? Is that blood or paint?"

"I… think that's paint, sir." Sky-byte's optics picked out the movement of the human's chest, and his spark leapt like an insecticon at a buffet. _He lives! He's not dead, he's alive! My reputation is saved! My shell is saved! My **audios** are saved!_

"He's perfectly fine, Megatron," Sky-byte said quickly, turning around. "I assure you, Doctor Onishi is the picture of health: just look!"

He waved the human in Megatron's face, then lowered it hastily as the bigger Predacon drew back in revulsion.

"But will we be able to get any information from him?" Megatron frowned. "I specifically said to keep him alive until I had time to probe him further." Sky-byte couldn't remember that, but he kept his mouth shut. "He still has knowledge he's managed to keep from us; if he dies now I'll never have it!"

_Of course he has to be in one of **those** moods now._ Sky-byte bowed his head and bit back a sigh. "Of course, my lord. We just have to fix him up a little and he'll be all ready for us to crack his mind open."

Megatron looked sceptical.

A groan from the stirring prisoner distracted them both. Doctor Onishi raised his head and gave Megatron an unsteady look. "Y-you again…" His voice was faint and oddly rough, but then, his vocaliser hadn't been used for so long…

"Hello, doctor." Megatron smirked. "So sorry to disturb you, but we're in need of your assistance."

Onishi was silent for a moment for Sky-byte heard his voice rasping. "I'm… not going to help you…" It obviously took him too much effort to continue, or perhaps he knew there was no point as he shuddered back into silence.

"Oh, but I think you are." Megatron waved a hand at Sky-byte. "Feed him or clean him or whatever you need to do, but in one mega-cycle he faces the psycho-probe. And I want him able to tell us _everything_ he knows."


	4. Location, Location, Dislocation

_Author's note: Reviews and comments are awesome, updates are slow since I've discovered a pressing need to rewrite the two chapters which follow this. Fortunately this shouldn't require me to edit the previous chapters to match._

_Or I hope it won't._

* * *

**Chapter Four: Location, Location, Dislocation**

Some days it was good to work away from home.

Above the planet, Movor basked in the unfiltered sunlight and the smug feeling of watching other people do a lousy job. _Yes sir, no Predacons, no bad-tempered commanders and no stinking DIY jobs up here._ _It's allll about location._

"_I've found another site you might want to hit," _he informed Rollbar. _"Have fun being short-handed when the Autobots show up. They're going to be on the alert in no time once you start."_

"_Hey, we've still got Scourge with us," _said Rollbar. He sounded mild, but Movor could tell he wasn't _totally_ unconcerned.

The shuttle made a sceptical noise. _"Better you than me, pal."_

"_You've got a problem with our commander?"_

"_Problem? Me? 'Course not!"_

"_Then can it, would you?" _For once, Rollbar sounded like there was something bothering him.

"_All I'm saying is, he's been in a mood all week. It's not like he hasn't blown it for us before…"_

"_Movor," _Scourge snapped over the link, sending the shuttle into a mental frenzy of trying to work out how much he'd heard, _"have you found anything or not?"_

"_Uh, yes sir! Just another manufacturing plant." _He transmitted the co-ordinates. _"Need me to keep looking, or should I go back to guard duty?"_

"_Not yet. Get your thrusters on the ground and join us." _Scourge's voice took a turn for the poisonous._ "We need all the hands we can spare."_

Of all the glitching orders- _"Yes, sir. I'm coming in now."_

Scourge's image nodded slightly and disappeared. _"Nice of you to help out," _Rollbar said, grinning.

"_Slag you. I'm gonna wind up carrying everything." _Sulking, he altered his course to start descending to the surface. The sun was starting to disappear round the horizon anyway. _"Can we get Scourge a punch-bag while we're at it?"_

"_Why? He isn't tired of you yet."_

* * *

The sun was warm above him, and around him the air had the calm of a fairly sheltered valley. There were a few rivers around here, and the grooves left by rainfall runoff were obvious to him. He could hear the occasional stream and amused himself by picking out its course without getting close enough to see the actual water.

Ro-tor didn't mind guard duty. It was way better than most of the jobs he could have been stuck with, and with everyone else busy, there wasn't much point in free time. This way, at least he was outside and being useful while doing nothing much on his own.

All he really had to do was check the roads and the other routes from which people might stumble on the base, without drawing attention to himself. That was easy. Even if anyone happened to look up and happened to pick his shape out from the rest of the scenery, his alt-mode didn't stand out as much as a tank or a shuttle. He had given into temptation for ten minutes and run through a few aerobatic moves, just to keep in practice, but it wasn't like there was anyone around to see him. And it might even him look less suspicious.

He didn't show off as much as some bots, anyway. He didn't draw attention he didn't want.

Ro-tor swung around the curve of a hill, scanning up and down the road below. All clear, it looked like.

_Or maybe not_, he thought, sensors focusing on the gleaming red fire truck cruising in the distance. _Hmm_.

He checked his course and headed in to investigate. Now how many fire trucks would anyone need out here? And what were the odds of one having that outline? The Decepticons had plenty of chances to notice the differences between the fire trucks that turned up in, say, Athens and Metro City.

Hardly any of them looked that much like Optimus Prime. Ro-tor knew outlines.

He dropped lower, hugging the contours around him as he tailed his newfound target. It could just be a coincidence that Prime had turned up in their area.

It could be, if coincidences ever happened around there.

* * *

Delivery time was announced by Movor bursting through the door with an armful of boxes and calling "All right, who wanted the microchips?"

He had poor sense to stop in the doorway as he did so. Scourge was sore, tired and irritable, and certainly not waiting for his underling to stand aside. He shoved past Movor from behind, knocking the smaller bot to one side. The shuttle-bot was smart enough not to respond to that. He kept talking. "Come on, I've got half your fragging shopping list on me here. Copper sheeting? Circuit boards? What's in-five-inch floppy- what? What've we got these fdisks for?"

"Oh hey, those are mine!" Gasskunk dropped the motherboard he was holding for Slapper and scurried over, giving Scourge a wide circuit.

Before Movor could ask the obvious, there was a ripping sound followed by munching. "You actually eat those?" Scourge heard the shuttle ask disbelievingly.

"I was hungry."

Scourge ignored them before the temptation to slaughter a Predacon became too strong. He trudged towards the other end of the room and sat on the one chair they had. His armour felt battered from the day's work, dents marring the lines of one shoulder, traces of grey-black out of place on his paint – and yet, he hadn't had the chance to earn the damage. That fool Rapid Run took him by surprise, and Scourge could only give a hasty barrage in return before they retreated.

He understood the necessity – loathed but understood it – but so close after their day-long stint as Autobots, he could imagine something was trying to punish him-

Mega-Octane loomed by his side. "Were there many Autobots?" he asked. Scourge's gaze turned from scouring the floor to his second's face.

"Just the trains." He scowled. "We couldn't stay around to fight."

Mega-Octane nodded, looking at his shoulder. "I can repair you now."

"No," Scourge said curtly. "Carry on with your other work."

Mega-Octane frowned. "You should have it-"

His attitude was far too close to that he used on the lesser Commandos, and in the presence of an audience. Scourge's temper erupted: he surged to his feet and turned on the bigger Decepticon, optics flashing. "Do you think I don't know what's good for me?" he demanded.

Mega-Octane drew back immediately. "No, sir!"

"Then don't forget it." Scourge looked around the room. Movor just met his gaze, straightening up and tilting his head as if waiting for orders - the closest to an innocent look the Decepticons had. Gaskunk and Slapper hurriedly pretended they weren't watching; from the way Armorhide was looking at them, it was far too late.

"I don't think we'll get any more _setbacks_ from them," Mega-Octane said, following Scourge's gaze. Apart from the incident between Sky-byte and Mega-Octane, there'd been hardly any argument between Predacon and Decepticon. Considering the amount of time they were spending together, doing irritating, boring work, it was no small miracle. "Megatron was down here while you were gone."

"Tell me something new." He didn't turn back to Mega-Octane. Megatron barely stayed in his chambers now. He was more than making good on his promise to personally ensure his troops' good behaviour.

The shock of finding their lord and master striding through their midst did much to keep even the Predacons quiet. Scourge might admit to himself that Megatron's presence gave him an impetus to control his own temper. He did notice that his lord's constant presence had begun to grate on him quietly. He couldn't explain it; he simply stowed the observation to one side. It was at the bottom of his list of problems.

Then it fell off. _"Ro-tor reporting in. I've just spotted Optimus Prime."_

_"What?"_ Scourge tensed, focusing on the communications link. He could see the bigger Decepticon look up sharply: Mega-Octane could hear the report, too. _"Where is he?"_

Ro-tor relayed the co-ordinates and Prime's heading. _"He isn't coming our way, but I'm tailing him."_

"It's not worth attacking him yet," Mega-Octane murmured. "We're better off lying low for now."

"I know that," Scourge hissed distractedly. _I'll kill him yet._ "Do you take me for an idiot? _Good, Ro-tor. Report as soon as you learn anything."_

_"Yes sir,"_ Ro-tor confirmed. Scourge cut the link and turned towards the door, optics narrowed as he thought. This changed everything. Prime being in the area took priority over everything, without question.

"Uh, Scourge?" asked Mega-Octane. "Where are you going?"

Scourge halted and looked over his shoulder at the confused bot. _What, are you afraid I'll do something… hasty?_ "To find out what Prime thinks he's doing in our territory."

* * *

"It's good work," Optimus said, looking up at the containment unit they'd erected beside the normal generator. "But somehow I don't think you called me here just to admire your installation skills."

"Actually, we really do have a few things to explain to you." Hotshot gave the door a casual glance. It wasn't openly guarded, though the other Spychangers were scattered around the compound and Crosswise was busy checking the energy readings nearby. "But yeah, we're hoping you'll draw some attention our way."

"So you want the Predacons to find this." Optimus looked back down at him, optics bright, waiting to hear the trick.

Hotshot nodded. "I know it scans pretty impressive, but we weren't going to risk a real power source like this. This one's nothing more than a clever fake."

"As long as they don't know that." The Autobot leader glanced back at the machinery and gave an approving nod. "But if they do try to steal it, you'll have another shot at tracking them to their base."

"Exactly. We've got it all set up."

Crosswise came over and gave the side of the casing a pat. "Not to give away all the spoilers, but I'll give you a hint: this baby's energy readings aren't just for reeling in 'Cons."

Optimus considered the Spychanger. "I see. It's a beacon."

"Disguised, but yes." Hotshot motioned towards the door. Optimus followed him out. "And we've got a few more tricks up our sleeve as well: we just need them to attack."

"It's a gamble. But it's very convincing."

"You know us Spychangers. We don't spare anything when it comes to presentation." Hotshot gave his friend a sidelong look. "I wanted to show you what we were doing. I thought you should see it for yourself."

Optimus glanced at him, then inclined his head gratefully. They'd worked together for a long time, most of it as fellow officers. They both knew how it helped to actually see progress being made. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I'm only sorry I can't do more to help."

"Well, I wouldn't count you off the hook yet. Are you going to visit the other site now?"

"Mmhm. I don't have long, but I'll stop for a look." Optimus looked around the compound and sighed. "You know, I just want to feel that we're doing something that's going to help."

"You still feel guilty about the doctor." Hotshot looked up at him. "I know, Optimus. This isn't the first time for either of us. But mark my words, we'll get him back safely."

"It's not just his physical health I'm concerned about." He turned away, bowing his head as his tone turned grim. "He's already been in Megatron's hands for months now. We both know what Predacon hospitality is like. I wish I could be optimistic, but the chances of him coming through that unmarked... Sooner or later, we'll get him back. I just hope we're not too late."

"I've studied his records," said Hotshot carefully, "and his notes. From what I've learned, he's a strong person. And people are resilient. Don't give up on Dr. Onishi just yet."

"No. I haven't given up hope. But we need this plan to work." There was an intense light in Optimus's yellow optics as he met Hotshot's gaze. "I made Koji a promise. And unless we succeed this time, I might have to break it."

* * *

According to the maps and Movor, there wasn't anything nearby that would be worth a visit from Prime himself. It could mean that they'd been found out, which was unlikely. Besides, Scourge was sure that if the Autobots had found them, the first they'd know about it was when the warp gate opened beside the Megastar.

More likely, it meant he knew something they didn't.

Waiting on a report from Ro-tor, Scourge was going to check on Armorhide's progress. He intended to make sure his team didn't embarrass him in front of Megatron like that again. Not while they wanted to live.

He strode through the darkness of the Megastar, the ever-present hum now broken up by the occasional rattle of components, the whine of a saw, loud discussions about which part was most important to do next. It was busier than normal, but he could take a turn, move up a level, and the new sounds were lost behind walls and struts.

The noise was mildly satisfying, to the part of him which was furious about their delays. But it was also irritating, and he wanted to be alone. He needed to move, and think.

He had been irritable to start with – in a bad mood from their failure (_his_ failure) in infiltrating the Autobots, and from the fact that his underling was finding favour over him from Megatron. And the suggestion, however muffled, that _he, Scourge_, was an _unstable liability_…

His fists clenched. The colossal stupidity of the Predacons in creating this crisis angered him, and the interruption to the Decepticons' plans. He was annoyed by the lack of real fighting, by Sky-byte's interference and the way the fumes from the leaking smelter were making his tyres itch. And Mega-Octane setting a new plan in motion without even consulting him…

Scourge was not amused.

Mega-Octane had failed him, and Megatron had reacted even worse than Scourge might have feared – worse, because it was unexpected. It was unthinkable for him not to simply trust the Decepticons' word. Megatron was in a strange mood, and that bothered Scourge. And then the Predacon commander had focused on Mega-Octane and left Scourge powerless to compensate for his troops' failure.

It made him look like a fool.

It made Scourge wonder. That kind of carelessness was uncharacteristic of his subcommander, unless…

…Unless making Scourge look more incompetent than Sky-byte really was his intention. Unless he wanted to discredit his commander – and the only rationale for that would be so that Mega-Octane could take his place.

Scourge slowed his pace, brooding on that. Taking his lieutenant for granted was becoming second nature to him. It was easy to forget that Mega-Octane hadn't always accepted his position. Easy to forget that he could have his own agenda in mind, while Scourge was busy thinking of the Autobots and Megatron.

Yes, it would make sense. That so-called failure to ally with Sky-byte, the other Decepticons' discontent, and even before that, Mega-Octane's presenting his own plans to Megatron… He would have to be a good actor, but then, of course, he _was_.

Scourge had no tolerance for rivals within his own faction. There was Megatron, who was superior, and there was Optimus Prime, and as much as Scourge loathed the Autobot's existence, he was a worthy opponent, to be destroyed in time. He could accept an enemy. The only other non-Decepticon Scourge might spare a thought for was Sky-byte: no more than a nuisance, no matter how determined to win Megatron's favour…

Which left Mega-Octane. Scourge didn't count him as a _true_ threat, not the way Prime was. He had seized power from the other Decepticon before and could do so again.

_But_, he thought, optics narrowed, _perhaps he needs a reminder…_

_"Scourge!"_ Ro-tor's voice over the comlink drew his attention. Scourge stopped dead in his tracks.

_"What have you found?"_

_"I followed Prime to a human power plant. There's Spychangers all over the place, and some human security." The copter-bot's sneer was audible. "He stayed there a while, then he stopped in at a warehouse not too far from there. I'm there now."_

Scourge frowned as Ro-tor passed on the co-ordinates. _"Where is Prime?"_

_"He just came out and hit the space bridge. But what's really interesting is the power readings I got at the plant. I couldn't get too close, but whatever they've got there, it's not the humans' regular fuel."_

Finally, Scourge thought. Here was an interruption worthy of his time.

* * *

Hour after hour, section by section, one deck at a time, one minor crisis after another. Incoming supplies, desperate flipping through plans of the ship, fires hastily smothered, pests kicked out of doors, the endless grinding tension of performing a task that mattered so much and to which he knew he was so unsuited… and finally Mega-Octane found himself staring at the last standing post of this hated assignment.

If there was a symbol of all that made the Megastar a pain in the aft to work on, this leaking thing was it.

The idea was simple enough – it was the ship's primary fuel distribution module, responsible for directing power and energon as needed throughout the vessel at any given moment. It was surprisingly small, not just because it was highly sophisticated but because it linked to a series of less-sophisticated versions throughout the ship, plus the core computer. He could hold it in one hand. It was a lot like its counterpart in a living Cybertronian, if on a higher order of complexity. But different enough to confuse a would-be technician.

He couldn't shake the sense that there was a logic behind all these quirks. He couldn't figure out what that logic was, either, and that was annoying him almost as much as the work.

Mega-Octane turned the module to get at another side. Like the base itself, it wasn't so much broken as showing its wear, dozens of odd circuits or components degraded in odd and hard-to-reach places, the problems piling up to make the thing unusable.

They were so near to the end. Components raids had been dispensed with. Movor was on lookout duty alone. The Predacons had finally been banned from this last, crucial zone of repairs, and a trio of heavily armed and newly idle soldiers did wonders to enforce that. For that, and having them to hand when he needed, Mega-Octane allowed the rest of his lower-ranking team-mates to stay. They were no distraction to least, until he heard one abandon the pack and come his way.

He looked up as Armorhide came to stand on the other side of the workbench. Mega-Octane eyed his clean armour jealously. He must have just gotten cleaned off.

He dropped his attention back to his work as the tank-bot reported. "The rest of the repairs are finished. All we need now is that module for the engines to be operational."

Mega-Octane acknowledged that with a grunt. He had little attention to spare for anything that wasn't broken. Especially now, knowing they were so close to the end of this wretched swamp-trek of a task…

There was a pause, and Armorhide asked, "What's Scourge doing?"

…Scourge? Mega-Octane stopped his work and looked up at Armorhide, visor flickering. This questioning was new behaviour. He didn't have time to spend working out what to make of it. "I have no idea. Why are you asking me?"

The tank-bot tilted his head, looking more questioning than anyone knew he could. "You're his lieutenant."

"And I'm busy," Mega-Octane snapped and dropped his gaze again, trying to remember where he'd been a second ago. It had been a little over a day since he'd last seen Scourge storming off to investigate rumours of Prime. Nothing had been said since, so whatever the tanker had found to occupy him clearly wasn't urgent. "I'm seeing to it this job gets done right, before the situation gets any worse."

Apparently that was enough, as it should be. No more questions came: the tank-bot merely gave a grunt of agreement and went back to rejoin the others. Their quiet mutters resumed, part of the conversation intruding into the subcommander's broken concentration as he got back to work.

"…A hothead all right, but he knows what he's doing." Armorhide, solidly sure of his opinion.

"Sure, _you'd_ figure that." Movor, actually keeping his voice down. "Me, I'm behind Mega-Octane on this one."

"You would be, wouldn't you?" Rollbar, amused as always…

Mega-Octane turned his visor on and off at the wall across from him, utterly bewildered for a nanoclick. Then he shrugged it off and bent over the worktable. There was too much to do, and no time to start caring about gossip. He wasn't even certain he had the right tools for this part, and he swore he'd outdo Scourge's fury if he screwed this up now. He'd made it too far. Where was the...

_Wait._

_What in the name of rusted slag is Movor doing groundside?_

* * *

Megatron waited while Sky-byte prepared their prisoner for the newest interrogation session. Over the past few days the repairs to the base had inched along, with himself trapped into supervising his undependable troops and all other plans on hold. He'd taken to probing Doctor Onishi's mind when he could find nothing else to do. The sessions were always short, by his standards. Short, but intense enough to make Sky-byte mewl about the damage to the human.

Megatron knew he'd passed the line between interrogating and venting. He also knew none of his underlings would so much as whisper of stopping him.

Bored, he watched as Sky-byte set the human on a counter. Even if he could move, he couldn't get down safely. Ironic, Megatron thought, that despite the probing the doctor's physical condition was actually starting to improve, thanks to the regular care.

"Megatron," Sky-byte said, turning to his leader, "forgive me, but I can't help wondering… should we waste our time feeding him? Won't it be easier to probe him while he's weakened?"

Megatron laughed. For once, the question didn't annoy him. "Fool," he said. "Don't question me. You have no idea how the psycho-probe works." Sky-byte bowed hurriedly as he continued, "It won't make any difference against the power of our equipment: weak or strong, his puny organic mind can't resist the scanner."

"Lord Megatron," said Scourge, entering the room and approaching Megatron. He stood to attention between the two Predacons.

"Ah, Scourge." Megatron looked down at him, thoughts of interrogation cast aside for the moment. "I hope you've brought me good news…"

Scourge inclined his head, and he was smirking. Megatron's interest spiked. If Scourge was keen to tell him this, it must be very good indeed.

"The main repairs are almost complete. The only component we need now is the ship's fuel distribution module. It's not too different from one of our own systems: Mega-Octane claims he can finish working on it within a day. Once it's installed, we only have to activate it and our command centre should be fully operational again."

Megatron's optics glowed with the first real pleasure he'd felt in days. He was absently aware of Sky-byte, still fiddling with the slumped form of Doctor Onishi, but mere entertainment was forgotten now. "Excellent work. Finally, one of you comes through for me."

Scourge's optics flickered for an instant, and he gave a soft 'hn' of assent. "Perhaps now we should turn our attention to gathering energy for our takeoff. We've located a power plant within our range, and it seems the Autobots are keeping a new energy source there." Behind the Decepticon, even Sky-byte had stopped to listen. "Movor has confirmed that all six Spychangers are guarding it, and Optimus Prime has been checking up on them."

Megatron shifted with hungry interest. "Yes, it must be important to them. How much energy is stored there?"

Scourge lifted his chin slightly. "If we capture it, it will be more than enough to power our departure immediately."

"Excellent!" Yes, _this_ was just what he had been waiting for – the very thing he needed to bring this cursed standstill to an end. His wings half-spread behind him as he thought of that – to finally be on the move again, no longer skulking like a wounded turbo-fox… His circuits surged in anticipation.

He turned on the Predacon to his left. "Sky-byte! You will take the other Predacons and attack this power plant!" From the corner of his vision he saw Scourge tense, optics flashing.

Sky-byte started hard enough to drop Onishi. The human was ignored as he spun to face Megatron. "_Me_?"

"Of course. I need the Decepticons here to guard the base and complete repairs so that when you return we can leave immediately." Megatron leaned forward, looming over the lesser Predacon. "Unless the thought of a few Spychangers _frightens_ you…"

"No, of course not!" Sky-byte stood straight and bowed, remembering his pride, or at least his spine. "Thank you, Megatron! I promise you, the Autobots won't be able to stand in our way!" He hurried out, presumably to find the other Predacons.

"The Autobots will be expecting us to attack," Scourge said, when he'd gone. The black Decepticon's optics were narrowed unhappily, his stance tense and uneasy. _But he's not_ _questioning me,_ Megatron thought, feeling satisfied by the knowledge and his subordinate both. "He can't possibly succeed."

"Of course not." He didn't restrain his smirk. "Sky-byte and his incompetents will test the Autobots' defences for us. And when they fall, you will be waiting…"

* * *

When at last his captors moved away, busy talking, it occurred to him to lift his head and watch them go. He was strong enough to move. Aware enough to realise he'd been forgotten.

Doctor Onishi scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of the counter. He focused on the metal side dropping away in front of him, and the floor at the bottom. He didn't want to jump. But he knew he'd fallen farther than that before and lived.

He swung his legs over the side. Then he held onto the edge of the surface and lowered himself down as far as he could. Lucky that he'd been fed recently, that he was able to do this. He went as far as he could, and then let go.

He couldn't land properly. His legs buckled the instant his weight came down on top of them and he fell. Shocks of pain ran through his joints and bones at the impact. Maybe it was a good thing he felt so numbed, he thought.

He lay there for a few minutes. Then he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and set off through the open door. There was no equipment he could use, he knew from having glimpsed the room earlier. Maybe the computers – if they weren't totally alien and probably booby-trapped.

He just needed to get away before they noticed he was free.

He stumbled though the doorway, and out into the ship.


	5. No Trap Unsprung

_Author's Note: Posting this chapter means I'm finally committed to an ending for this fic. (Or how to get to the ending, more specifically.)_

_Once again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far for the encouragement - and once again don't forget to review if you like it! We would like to assure the reader that all comments will be welcomed with glee._

* * *

**Chapter Five: No Trap Unsprung**

Kenneth Onishi was lost, and for the first time in his life he was right to be happy about it.

He had no idea where he was going, except that it was downward. At first he'd twisted blindly through the hallways, but with a reassuring sense of distance between him and the psycho-probe, his pace steadied and he began to think more purposefully. His memory was foggy these days, but over the years he'd developed a knack for navigating dark tunnels. He had a rough sense of the direction and the distance he'd come.

If he went far enough, sooner or later he'd get to the outside edge of the ship. Follow that far enough and he was bound to reach an airlock. An airlock, or an escape pod of some kind. Then it was a gamble on whether he could operate what he found.

It was the only plan he had.

He turned a corner and slumped against the curved rib running down the wall beside him. It was about as thick as his body, and smooth, and cool. He leaned on it and caught his breath.

He was about to move when he realised the coolness wasn't just against his arm, where he felt the metal. Onishi shifted and felt a soft breeze brush his face and chest. For a minute he stood there, appreciating it and trying to focus on what it was, what it meant. It was important.

_Think. A breeze?_

_A draught._

He pulled himself up and stumbled towards the source. The air blowing past him wasn't particularly fresh, but it was coming from somewhere. From the outside eventually, he assumed.

Tracking the draught through three intersections, he came to a place where the hall sloped down abruptly. Onishi looked at it for a few seconds, then grabbed at the wall and used it to steady himself, moving hand over hand as he stepped down, one foot at a time. If he tried to walk alone, he was sure his legs would give out and send him tumbling dangerously down to the bottom. And he had no intention of crawling.

Down he went, halting and grabbing at the walls, feeling his way down in the dark. There was some light: he could see his hands, pale and thin and slightly more yellowed than his stained sleeves, but everything around him was dark-coloured and indistinguishable in the gloom. The cool slick metal beside him, the faint cool whisper of air from below were his guides, and Kenneth Onishi himself was lost in the dark.

To some people it would be a nightmare. To a man who'd spent his weeks pinned under the hypnotic spotlight-brilliance of the psycho-probe, it was relief and it was freedom.

Level flooring reared up beneath him where it wasn't expected. He tripped over himself, caught at the wall, and did not fall this time.

Another pause for rest, as he smiled to himself. He was in a daze, and he knew it, but he still thought he had reason to smile. You had to celebrate small victories, especially at times like this.

Onishi looked ahead as he pushed off to start walking again, and realised that he could see a doorway, and pale light coming through it.

* * *

This was the part Sky-byte rather enjoyed. Not as much as standing triumphant on the battlefield and composing victorious lines about his success, or as presenting the good news to Megatron, of course.

Still, there was a certain something about bursting into a compound with weapons blazing and seeing your enemies scatter before you. Nothing could match that.

Even when, as Slapper pointed out, all of said enemies were merely humans.

"Aren't there supposed to be Autobots around here?" Gasskunk agreed. Sky-byte hadn't bothered to answer the toad, but this finally distracted him from terrorising the humans.

"They're around here somewhere," he said, seeing the last humans disappear through emergency doors from the corner of his optic. The Predacons had set off alarms as soon as they landed, and they'd wasted no time in blasting their way in here, to the main building.

"Unless they didn't want to stick around and fight," said Darkscream. The Predacons spread out, looking around the place.

"Or unless someone's sent us to the wrong place _again,_" Slapper muttered.

"Hrmmm…" Sky-byte's optics narrowed as he scanned the room. There was enough space for a small army of Transformers, which just confirmed Megatron's suspicions. And there, in that casing…

His optics widened. At last! That was blessed opportunity staring at him – _his_ wonderful opportunity. When they brought _this_ back to Megatron…

"Hey, will someone turn off that alarm?" Gasskunk asked behind him.

"Yeah," agreed a new voice. Sky-byte frowned and looked up with the others. "It's driving me up the wall." Under their optics, a section of concrete high on the wall shifted and shimmered and bulged outward, turning blue-

"Spychanger!" Sky-byte glared at him and raised his claws. "You've shown yourselves too late, Autobot. This generator's ours!"

"And here I thought it had my name on it. Crosswise, transform!" The Spychanger leapt down onto the generator housing. Sky-byte stepped back for a second as two more appeared around the sides of the machinery. "You want it, come and take it!"

"That's what we're here to do," Darkscream said cheerfully.

"Looks like we'll get to squash some Autocans today after all," Slapper said.

"Careful!" Sky-byte looked around in surprise. Another couple of the Spychangers had appeared behind them. The black one – Hotshot – had his gun lowered as he warned the others. "If we're not careful the generator could explode. We don't want to take that risk."

"Neither do-" Gasskunk began, but Sky-byte smacked his head. "Ow!"

The shark-bot leaned forward as the other Predacon rubbed the dent. "They don't need to know that!"

"Oh." Darkscream's grin joined Slapper's. "Right," they said.

Sky-byte straightened up and charged the Tsunami blaster, aiming for the Spychangers' leader. "Attack!"

* * *

He heard the voices even before he reached the door. He only paused to check that the speakers weren't in sight, then scrambled over the threshold ridge and inside.

The light was coming from the centre of the room, and it was strangely bright for this place. He was reminded uncomfortably of the last light he'd been under. The voices – and he could understand them, if he tried – were coming from the lit area, above his height and loud enough that he'd have known them to be Predacons even if they weren't in the base. He steered away from them, sticking to the wall to his right, in the shadows cast by the crates stacked nearby.

"Mega-Octane!" It was the black one, he realised. He'd seen that one before, coming in to speak to Megatron while he was busy toying with his prisoner. What about, he'd never known. But he remembered the voice. "The others are waiting outside. What's taking you so long?"

The other one sounded as rushed as the first sounded irritable. "I'm coming, Scourge. Just as soon as I've finished. This is a complex task and you called me in the middle of it."

They were speaking Japanese. Of all things, that was what seemed strange. Megatron and his friends slipped between their language and Japanese (always the latter when they wanted to taunt him). Did they have something against Predacon-speak, or was there something wrong with their language circuits?

He chuckled mentally, just as he came to a gap between the crates. It was a few inches wide, enough to let him see the robots while he hid. He was starting to notice the smell that clung about the place – chemical and burnt metal. Like a steelworks might, from a distance. It lurked in the back of his nose, faint but pervasive.

He could see now that the second Predacon was a similarly angular type, green and orange with wheels on his sides and a pair of powerful-looking cannons visible over his shoulders. He rose, and Onishi realised that the sitting mechanoid was actually bigger than his commander. Not as big as Megatron – or so he thought. It was hard to compare from an ant's-eye view.

'Mega-Octane' lifted his head from whatever he was working on at the table between them and gave a huff that sounded like a sigh. Then he started forward, hand outstretched to ward the other bot away from something. "Careful! Watch the tank!" He settled back and explained, "Nanites from the smelter residue. They're still active enough to be corrosive."

"Hnh. That explains _some_ of the stench." The black one moved around the table. "Exactly how long before it's online?" He was looking down, presumably at the module.

The doctor left his peephole and moved as quietly as he could around the crates. He nearly stumbled into an open space as the green bot replied. "Five hours, sir… four if I'm not disturbed."

Onishi staggered back to the first gap, holding in a gasp of relief that he hadn't been spotted. At first when he'd escaped he'd felt too numbed to care if he was caught, but this taste of freedom was starting to stir a reserve of adrenalin he didn't know he had.

He peered back through the gap at the Predacons. Onishi wondered who they were. Megatron was the supreme ruler hereabouts (and said so often enough). The doctor had only glimpsed the black one - Scourge before. He and his friend didn't seem quite like the other Predacons, though Onishi was at a loss to spot the subtleties.

Whoever he was, Scourge turned and moved out of view. "Move it, Mega-Octane. The Predacons already have a head-start on us. And don't leave that out where any vermin can get their claws on it."

Mega-Octane followed his apparent commander. "I'm going to seal this entire section until we're back. That ought to keep them out of our business – and out of the smelters, too."

Their words became indistinct and the noise of their footsteps muffled. The doctor stood up cautiously, looking around for another door than the one they'd gone through. The last thing he wanted was to be sealed in. He needed to move, to stay out of sight, to escape-

There was a sudden hiss and a slam behind him that sent tremors through the floor. He turned around. The door he'd come through was closed. From the end of the room the Predacons had gone through came a similar, heavier sound. It was echoed distantly from all directions, and the sound of the section shutting down around him reverberated up through Doctor Onishi's feet.

His shoulders slumped; he took a minute to catch his breath, then covered his nose with his stagnant sleeve, and scrambled over to see what his captors had locked him in with.

* * *

Hotshot hit the deck, and another blast from Sky-byte heated the air above him. Somewhere behind another crate heated and burst noisily.

The Spychanger got to his knees and looked over the ruined wall acting as cover for him. Most of the building's front wall had been blown out by now, though the others were intact. The Predacons were taking full advantage of his team's unwillingness to fire freely, and the Spychangers were working to make sure their opponents didn't do anything they'd regret.

_Not before we want them to, anyway._

Sky-byte was alternating between taking the occasional shot at Hotshot to keep him out of the way and firing on Crosswise. The science officer was the only Spychanger still stuck on the opposite side of the room, and his attempts to work around to the others were hampered by the fact that a Predacon twice his size was raining laserfire on him. The rest of the team was occupied with keeping the Predacon trio just busy _enough_.

"Hey guys, a little assistance over here?" Crosswise called. He had his gun in his hand, but the few shots he had time to get off didn't deter Sky-byte. Put bait under a shark's nose, and it seemed to make even the mechanical ones determined.

"_Already with you." _Hotshot radioed. He fired a couple of shots past Gasskunk, forcing him to move aside and clearing Crosswise's path from one end. Caught up with the goons, the others didn't have time to help.

Lucky for them, Mirage didn't need time.

The marksman broke away from Slapper for a second, snapped his laser rifle to the side and fired. Sky-byte howled in furious pain and grabbed his elbow.

"Who did that?" he shouted, spinning around to unleash his wrath on the culprit. Mirage was sticking shots to Slapper as if he'd never stopped. Hotshot ducked another enraged Tsunami Blast, then looked up.

Sky-byte was turning back to catch Crosswise again. But the blue Autobot was nowhere to be seen.

"Whew! I guess I really ticked him off," said Crosswise. Hotshot glanced at the ground beside him, but his team-mate was safely cloaked. He chuckled.

"I think we've put up enough of a fight now. We need to pull back and save our energy."

"Fine by me."

Hotshot raised a hand and signalled to the others. "We can't stop them! Fall back!"

* * *

It was a good plan, simple and tried and tested. Wait for the Predacons to be beaten into miserable pulps by the Autobot guards, drawing out the defences where they could be seen. Then sweep in to rout the lot, claim the energy and prove that they could do the job their would-be rivals couldn't. Under par time, even.

_"Hold back, there,"_ Ro-tor was ahead of them, keeping a watch for their targets. _"Scourge? We have a complication here." _

The Decepticons slowed to a crawl, hidden among the green and mushy-surfaced fields. _"What is it?"_

"_The Predacons are coming back."_

"_Already?" _Mega-Octane demanded.

"_What's their course?" _Scourge swore inwardly. If they had to move to hide their approach – well, that wouldn't last. It would be messier to apprehend their 'allies' en route, but…

Ro-tor reported their route – which wasn't towards the Decepticon position. Scourge looked at the row of low hills between them and plotted ambush in the time it took the chopper to add, _"Wait a nanoclick. It looks like they're slowing down for something."_

"_Hold your position, Ro-tor."_ Scourge halted. "Decepticons, transform and spread out!" He hit robot-mode with the others forming up around him and led the way towards the crest of the hill ahead. "Keep your heads down. I want to see this for myself."

_Before I interrupt it._

* * *

Under all the casing it turned out that the generator was small enough to fit in Sky-byte's jaws. The shark was more than happy to carry it, especially if it improved his chances of getting the credit he deserved.

He took off for the base immediately, with the other Predacons following in their beast modes. He was moving fast. There was plenty of ground to cover before his success was safely in the bag, so to speak. Yes, he'd taken it from the Autobots without any trouble.

But as every 'con knew, it was only a victory when Megatron knew it. Instinct and experience told him not to waste time in getting this home. Impatience for his recognition meant he didn't need telling.

All the same, they were no more than halfway there and he was slowing. The generator was surprisingly heavy. A robot shark had incredibly strong jaws, and still Sky-byte found himself tiring.

"Hey Sky-byte, what're you stopping for?" Gasskunk called as he slowed even more.

"I thought you wanted to get this energy to Megatron ASAP," Slapper said. Sky-byte flopped to the ground, dropping the generator beside him.

"Just… need… a little rest…"

"Right." Slapper leaned over the generator, looking at it. Darkscream landed and shrugged at Gasskunk.

Gasskunk shrugged back and wandered over to join Slapper. "I wonder what this is, anyway."

"What does it matter, if it has energy?" Darkscream asked.

"I dunno, but you've gotta wonder what it runs on." The skunk tapped the side with a claw, then bent in for a closer look. "It's a real funny kind of generator…"

"Don't touch that," Sky-byte found the energy to snap, hearing a suspiciously tinkering-like sound. He rose from the ground, casting a shadow over generator and Predacon alike. "Do you know what Megatron will do to you if you break it?"

"I know, I know…" Gasskunk stopped suddenly. "Heyy, wait a minute!"

"What is it?" asked Slapper.

"This isn't a generator!"

"_What?" _Sky-byte was suddenly in robot mode beside them. "What is it?"

"It looks like some kind of… beacon…"

"Hey, it does," Slapper agreed, peering at the bit Gasskunk had opened. "I've seen things like that on-"

"A trap!" Sky-byte shouted, starting to panic. This wasn't how it was meant to go! He looked about them frantically. "It's a fake! A beacon! The Autobots must be trying to follow us! Those underhanded oil rags!"

"What do we do now?" Darkscream asked worriedly.

Gasskunk looked at Sky-byte. "Yeah, now what? We can't bring _that_ back to Megatron."

"I know that! But what do we do?" Sky-byte paced fretfully. "If we bring it back to the base the Autobots will find us and Megatron will be furious. But if we come back empty-handed…"

"Yeah, well, he's expecting us back any time now," Gasskunk said. "You think we've got time to find something for him?"

"Hey, guys, don't you think we should get rid of this before we go anywhere?" Slapper poked the fake generator for emphasis.

"Yes…" Sky-byte growled at it and transformed. "Throw it here!"

Slapper hefted the weighty little counterfeit and tossed it at the shark. Sky-byte batted it away into the air with his tail. Then he twisted, opening his jaws after it. "Shark missiles!"

The missiles streaked towards the airborne beacon. They couldn't miss. They didn't.

Sky-byte smirked grimly as the shrapnel that remained began to flutter down across miles of countryside. "Hah! Let's see the Autobots try and follow that!"

* * *

If Sky-Byte had meant to disconcert the Decepticons, he had done a beautiful job of it. The hills were alive with indignation.

Quietly.

"What did he just do? He just blew up the freaking generator!"Movor hissed along the way, too excited to care if questions were rhetorical. Even his own.

"What in the name of Megatron was…" To Scourge's left Mega-Octane shook his head rapidly as if to shake the stupidity from his optical sensors.

"When he learns about this…" Scourge reined in his bile. Any other time, this would have been a windfall. Catching the Predacons in the act of throwing away vital energy would have made him shout in triumph, if it had _only. Happened. Next. Week._

Now it was snatching defeat from the jaws of _his_ victory. No energy for the Predacons. No energy for the Decepticons. Failure for everyone and…

Time for a new plan. His thoughts jumped back, running over their resources. Everything in the area they could use… of course. That would do.

"Back into vehicle mode," he told Mega-Octane. It saved shouting. "I know exactly how to make up this loss."

* * *

The space bridge worked largely through the miracles of warp technology, and Hotshot was rather proud of his comrades' work. Crosswise and T-AI worked together with the Build Team to co-ordinate the Spychangers' use of it, and they'd learned to pull off some nifty manoeuvres over the years.

After all, it was a system that twisted the fabric of space to its ends, built on all the loopholes in the laws of physics. There wasn't a Spychanger alive who couldn't appreciate that.

In this case, the local flexibility of the network's tunnels made it perfect for following the Predacons. The Spychangers couldn't pick up the beacon's signal while they were inside, but the sky spy they had on standby could.

"_Are they still making a beeline for home?" _Hotshot asked.

"_Yes," _T-AI answered. _"But it looks like they're slowing down- no, they've stopped."_

"Already?" W.A.R.S. sped up, flanking Hotshot. "I can't believe we were that close and didn't know it!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Hotshot warned, as T-AI reported the beacon moving again. "I know it's warp tech, but I doubt the space bridge could take that."

"_But that's strange-oh!" _T-AI sounded frustrated. _"I've lost the beacon."_

"_Think they've rumbled us?" _Ironhide wondered_._

"_They're Predacons, buut it's possible," _Mirage replied.

"_All right, T-AI, bring us out where you last detected it," _Hotshot said. _"Spychangers, into stealth mode and scatter. It's time for plan B."_

* * *

Barely an hour after the Decepticons' change of plans, Mega-Octane strode once more down the halls of the Megastar.

He stopped at the door to the main engine section and keyed in the code. Slag the Autobots and the Predacons both. He was disgruntled by the added delay on top of his interrupted work but it _had_ been good to get out of the base with the rest of his team; now the thought that the work here was nearly done was about the only thing motivating him to finish it.

Breaking into the warehouse had been simple. The security system was definitely Autobot, but the insentient circuits were hardly formidable. The Decepticons only needed to stay long enough to load up as much energy as they could carry. They cleaned up and cleared out quickly and efficiently. And Mega-Octane gave his commander some reluctant credit: Scourge had thought fast.

The change of pace had been all too short, of course. He was almost disappointed their raid hadn't met any resistance, though he knew they couldn't afford delays like that. After weeks cooped up doing these lousy repairs, Mega-Octane decided he was entitled to his selfish thoughts.

The door in front of him slid open. He went through, chuckling to himself as he heard the rest of the section opening up. If any Predacons had wanted in while he was gone, too bad for them. He headed down to where he'd left his work-in-progress.

He'd left the other Decepticons loading the captured fuel into the energon converters. This part was a one-bot job. He didn't need their glances or Scourge's order to tell him to get down here and get on with it: Mega-Octane was only too willing to see the back of the module. Predacon incompetence had started the mess, and had too many chances to compound its stupidity. And it had put Megatron in a strange kind of high-strung temper. But the worst part, really, was the mood Scourge had been in since it started…

Halfway to the table he stopped dead.

Bad as it was, Scourge's mood was about to take a hike on the Richter scale.

* * *

Doctor Onishi sat in the middle of a smaller hallway, near where it intersected with the main one he'd been following. This one was darker, obviously not one they used often. There was enough light spilling in from the main hall for him to work by.

The Predacons had left small components and wiring all over their worksite. Most were useless to him. He had no idea what the more intricate electronics were, or the translucent purple cylinder as long as his forearm. He'd been scrambling blindly through a pile of discarded material on the floor before he realised what was in it.

Human technology. Transistors. Capacitors. Disassembled radios.

He made himself think through what he wanted instead of grabbing handfuls blindly. Onishi was hardly sure he was doing it right, and he'd ended up taking more than he needed of everything. That was fine.

He could rest a bit here without getting caught. He'd scrambled through a door as soon as it opened, forgetting to check that no-one was coming through it. He'd been lucky the hall was empty. That he had enough energy to get away surprised him, even though he hadn't gone far. Just enough to hide, for a while. It was easier now to think, easier to override his aching muscles, the weakness and the nausea.

Onishi felt… grounded. He had a plan and a purpose. There was something about working for his own reasons and with his own faculties that was like a slap of cool water to the face. He felt he'd come back to himself.

And any good archaeologist knew how to make the most of a break in the clouds.

He had an idea what he'd have to do to make a radio transmit through the ship. Finding ways to detect and communicate through rock and earth had taught him some things. With this equipment – he had some sharp-edged metal fragments, and his hands – there was only so much he could do, no more. On the other hand, he had a collection of good-quality components that must have come from far and wide across the planet.

And he knew something else now, something he hadn't known for all the months or years they'd had him here.

The Predacons had enemies.

_That_ was hope, a neat shot of it straight to the blood. There was someone out there who could fight Megatron. Someone who was looking for them. Someone who was _close_.

Onishi didn't know if that someone knew about him. But he was going to try and tell them.

Better, he would tell them where the base was.

* * *

"Where did you leave it?"

Mega-Octane didn't bother to spare him a withering look. "On the table, obviously." He shoved a stack of sheet metal aside, found nothing behind them. He spat a curse and strode beyond the immediate workspace: Armorhide and the shuttle were plenty enough to search there. This was absurd. The entire deck had been sealed, there was no way the module could have moved without him.

And he had left it there… He turned and swept the room with his gaze, angry and uncomprehending. Was he supposed to doubt his own memory now?

"Predacons," Armorhide said. Nobody had brought that word up yet. He was overturning the place systematically, making a heaped shambles of the organised chaos. That was annoying but it satisfied Mega-Octane better than Movor's strategy of scanning the area with his head canted sceptically. Playing the expert optic.

"The room was sealed." He was tired of repeating the facts. "Movor, quit standing around. If I wanted a lamppost I wouldn't have pulled you off smelter duty." The pair should be helping Ro-tor and Rollbar load the fuel into the conversion tanks, ready to feed the engines when the distribution system was fixed. Mega-Octane saw no harm in slowing the job, not if it solved this problem before Scourge finished taking Megatron's praise and started nosing about again.

Movor obliged and turned over a few things he'd been eyeing. Leadheaded spacer. He wasn't so cool when it was his aft in Scourge's sights. He backed off as Armorhide ploughed in front of him, then scooted across the room. Caught up in racking his own processors, Mega-Octane almost missed Movor's exclamation.

The white mech crouched by a half-forgotten reinforced bucket of smelter sludge and plunged his hand into it. He felt around for a second and then pulled it out, stinking brown-grey sludge coating his black gauntlet and dripping from something solid and familiar. Mega-Octane lunged forward and snatched it from him.

"This is all I need," he growled, trying to work out the damage done by the nanite-ridden chemical soup. He had to get that blasted gunk off before it got worse.

Movor gave an exaggerated sigh. "No-one appreciates it when I actually find something."

"How does it look?" Armorhide had the right concern.

"Not good. I need to- bah! Get back to work before Scourge-" On cue, his audios picked up the familiar tread on the deck.

Scourge stopped inside the room, gaze taking in the scene, the Commandos away from their task, the clutter-strewn floor… and settling on his lieutenant. "Holding back again?"

Mega-Octane tried to cut the oncoming dispute at the source. "I was just saying-"

"What makes you think I care?" His gaze swung briefly towards the two lesser Decepticons; they stepped back, studiously indifferent but attentive. He proceeded to ignore them. He reached back and drew the Sword of Fury.

Mega-Octane's visor widened. Scourge nodded very slightly. "It's time to stop playing the fool," he said.

* * *

The Spychangers had scattered to cover more ground, although their optics were actually on the sky. The Predacons were somewhere in the area, but there was no telling when Crosswise's Plan B would kick in – if it did. They didn't remark on it, but they were settling down for a long wait. It never had been a surefire bet.

Hotshot was delighted that it worked. Mirage and W.A.R.S. spotted the faint plume of ultraviolet smoke at the same moment; within minutes the team was at the source. Crosswise said there should have been more smoke: Hotshot assured him he saw no reason to complain.

They'd all seen the Predacon base before. Both times it had been airborne and both times it had been flying away when they stopped to get a good look at it. No amount of studying the data or their training simulations prepared them to find it looming over them, half-hidden by a camouflage field.

The ship had a clear view of the area in front of it. The surrounding hills weren't close enough to lurk behind: the only cover around was the escarpment the Megastar was parked under – and the ship itself.

On the low ground before it, they lurked in stealth mode and conferred.

"Observations?" Hotshot asked quietly.

"They have a roof garden now," Ironhide commented. "Think Megatron did it himself?" The others chuckled.

"We just saw the Preds get inside, and from what T-AI says the Decepticons had plenty of time to get here from the warehouse," said REV.

"So everyone should be at home," Hotshot agreed. "All right then, let's move in quietly."

"If they try to use Crosswise's fuel, they could smell a retro-rat any time now," WARS pointed out. "Is there any point to the sneaky approach?"

"We're not here to start a pitched battle," Hotshot said. "We'll deal with any trouble when it comes, but for now our goal is to infiltrate that ship without blasting in. REV, WARS, Mirage, you take the high ground. Ironhide, Crosswise, we're going to try and get in from the ground."

"We know the drill," said REV, as he and the others peeled away to find a way up onto the cliff. "You can count on us."

"Let's go," Hotshot said, taking the lead and hearing Crosswise and Ironhide follow.

Together they crept up on the Predacon base invisibly. There was no telling what kind of sensors Megatron had sweeping the surrounding area, or what booby traps they might run into. Best to move steadily and watch their step.

When they got to the bottom of the camo-field, they stopped for a minute.

"You know, I've got a bad feeling about this," Crosswise murmured.

"I don't know why." Ironhide's voice was a little strained.

"Well, I didn't count on them having a forcefield around the base…"

Hotshot strained his audios, listening and hearing no sound from inside, no vibrations running up his wheels from the ground. Satisfied no-one was there to watch, he slipped through the entrance of the field and saw it waver around him.

He knew one thing instantly. They'd found Crosswise's missing smoke. It was billowing. It was luminous. It was everywhere, clouding the space inside the field. If the Spychangers had been visible before, they'd have soon disappeared in the diffusing gas. In the shadows of the energy tent, the sunlight filtered through patchily and made the cloud glow eerily.

"_Heads up,"_ he radioed to the team. _"If they haven't noticed we're here yet, they're about to."_

* * *

"Did you think I was oblivious?" Scourge asked. He was quiet, dangerous. When he roared you had a chance to duck. This was the voice of impending execution. The blade resting in his hand testified to that. "I've been watching you, Mega-Octane. Pushing your own plans to Megatron. Little meetings with the Predacons. Acting behind my back with _my_ Decepticons. And everything _I_ order you to do runs into problem after problem."

He could see where this was leading. "It wasn't like that. I told you-"

"You told me what you wanted to," Scourge said coldly. "I have optics of my own, you fool. I can see the pattern. You've been working to undermine my leadership, trying to disgrace me and claim my command."

Mega-Octane stared at him, affronted out of sheer surprise. Of course they were Decepticons, but… but _that_ wouldn't have occurred to him. "You actually think I want to replace you?"

"No? You wanted to before, didn't you?"

_You replaced me,_ Mega-Octane thought. He was thankful it didn't slip out of his vocaliser then. "Only when you arrived – but Megatron settled that. He named you our leader, put you in command. Why would I try to change that?"

The tip of the blade dropped as Scourge drew back, optics narrowing, looking at Mega-Octane with a mix of suspicion and something he couldn't make out. After a pause he seemed to regain himself and answered, "Perhaps because you're so sure that you could do better." His voice had picked up its contemptuous curl by the end of the sentence.

"I-" Mega-Octane hesitated. He meant to deny it, but it landed dangerously close to the truth. Or at least to that lurking idea of his that Scourge wasn't a reliable leader, that someone else had to take care of the mission. "That's not what I think," he insisted firmly.

"Really? Then explain," Scourge shot back. "How are your actions supposed to be those of a loyal lieutenant? What was the point of this idiocy, if not to oust me?"

His gaze burned into Mega-Octane: he was waiting on the answer, and so were Movor and Armorhide, almost forgotten in the background. Mega-Octane knew they were important as an audience: Scourge wanted the rest of his team to see this quashed.

Mega-Octane could count the number of times he'd felt real fear on one hand. Battle didn't scare him; death and pain were something he assumed would happen to other people. But this sudden, unexpected threat from Scourge sent his self-assurance sprawling to the ground with a dented chassis.

But Scourge had handed him the initiative. Mega-Octane didn't understand why but he took it gladly. He used the moment's respite to pull himself together. Blast it, what had he driven himself into?

He'd known that Scourge was getting more and more hostile, and he'd thought he could handle it by keeping his head down and getting the job done faster. No, that wasn't right either. He'd tried to keep it safe _from Scourge_. It hadn't occurred to him that that might cause more trouble than the alternative.

Mega-Octane scowled, seeing how it would look from the outside, and not liking the view from the inside much, either.

Though if Scourge was so sure he was treacherous, why hadn't he attacked? Why wait for Mega-Octane to defend himself?

"I wasn't trying to usurp you," he said, keeping his voice firm as he met Scourge's gaze. The Sword of Fury was still lowered. "I was just making sure the job got done, no matter what. And if that means sweet-talking the Predacons and taking care of things myself, then so be it."

"So you admit to cutting me out of the loop!" The flash of Scourge's optics showed how he took that. Knowledge was power. Taking one was a shadow's width from taking the other.

Mega-Octane ignored the shiver in his core and drew himself up. "And what else was I supposed to do, Scourge? You've already proven you can't be trusted to control yourself when things go-"

"_Scourge!" _Megatron's voice thundered over their comlinks, making Mega-Octane shut his vocaliser off reflexively. Both Decepticon officers took a step back, Scourge pulling up a holo-image in surprise. He barely had time for a startled acknowledgement before Megatron bulled over him. _"Prepare the engines for launch now!"_

Megatron's teeth were bared and his optics were flashing as if he'd seen the Autobot fleet bearing down on him. Scourge's gaze flickered to Mega-Octane and back. The lieutenant himself was frozen. "But sir, we-"

_"I said now, Scourge! Immediately! I don't care what you have to do to get them working, but do it!"_

"What's happened?" Armorhide asked. Mega-Octane glanced at him. Movor was behind the tank, one hand on his back, caught in place as he stared at the hologram.

_"Sabotage,"_ Megatron snarled darkly. The Decepticons looked at each other.

"Uh, wow," said Movor blankly. "How did you know?"


	6. Breaking Cover

**Chapter Six: Breaking Cover**

Warp technology was unspeakably powerful, whether you harnessed it in a space bridge or a space ship. That had been drilled into Hotshot's processor long before he was allowed to touch any of it. When you had something that twisted the fabric of space itself at will, you treated it with _respect_, or you paid the price.

Usually in ways that would earn horror writers good money.

But forces that could easily tear a 'bot apart demanded some thought about their use. For one thing, they couldn't open a warp gate too close to the Megastar. Forgetting the fact that it would be obvious on the sensors, Megatron could power up the ship's transwarp engines at any moment.

Hotshot wasn't an expert on what happened if you used two powerful, un-co-ordinated dimension-benders next to each other, but he had an idea it wouldn't be pretty for the 'bots caught in between them.

So even though they assumed Megatron couldn't turn the engines on full-throttle, even with T-AI setting the bridge to open at the minimum safe distance, and even with Prowl's assurance of the fastest response possible – even so, there was an added couple of minutes before they could hope for any backup.

Phasing through the hull was out of the question for much the same reason. The only difference was that they didn't know how sensitive phase-shifting was to transwarp tech: they might get turned inside-out just by Megatron leaving his engines on standby. Walking through walls was convenient, but it wasn't worth that risk.

Neither was their biggest problem, but it was another couple of things for Hotshot to be uncomfortably aware of as he and Ironhide moved in on a likely-looking airlock. Crosswise had their back. By now the others would be on position on top of the escarpment.

The Megastar loomed over them, immense and purple and all the more menacing for the smoke that cloaked it. They were looking up at its belly: even if it was sentient it couldn't see them, but Hotshot felt as though they were sneaking up on Megatron himself. Empty crates and canisters lay propped against the ship or stacked nearby, and the smell of chemicals mingled with oil and smoke. Crosswise would having fun guessing the compounds.

There weren't any open hatches that he could see. He moved in on the nearest engine-leg, looking for a way inside. He had to skirt more scattered rubbish the closer he got, and the crates blocking his view didn't help. Predacons specialised in making their bases hard to locate: even taking into account the camo-field, he'd never seen this much junk around one before.

_Someone's been very busy,_ he thought. He could hear the sound of his wheels slinking over the dirt beneath him, and an even quieter sound of moving air.

"Think we should transform and break in?" Ironhide asked, and then they heard a door hiss open.

It was behind them. Hotshot backed up a little, but Crosswise was behind him somewhere and the last thing they needed to do was crash. Through the cloud of tent-trapped smoke, he saw a cluster of outlines break away from the ship and dash into the mist.

"Hey, what happened out here?" someone exclaimed, and Hotshot knew it was Gasskunk.

"Maybe something's blown a leak," said Darkscream.

"Or maybe we've got a few Autobots snooping around," came Sky-byte's voice, moving a few steps closer. "Gah! I can't see anything through this!"

"Come out, Autocans…" Slapper called, moving away toward the cliff side. There was a hiss beside the hidden Spychangers, and Hotshot realised too late that the airlock door in front of them was opening.

Armorhide leapt from the opening. _"Watch out!"_ said Ironhide. Hotshot rolled backwards hastily, hoping he wouldn't hit anything. Crosswise must have got out of the way. The Decepticon transformed and hit the ground in front of them in tank-mode. Hotshot could see the main gun levelled above them, moving from side to side as Armorhide scanned for targets. He stepped back, and the gun swung his way.

"There's someone out here, all right," Armorhide growled, probably telling the rest of his team over the comm.

Hotshot stopped. Either the sound or the ground-borne vibrations would draw attention. On the other hand, all Armorhide had to do was roll forward and he'd be flattened. Likewise for Ironhide, though the truck-bot was bound to come out of it better.

Hotshot's armour wasn't so strong, and getting caught like that wasn't his style. He preferred to move while they still had a choice about it.

He commed Ironhide. There was a crash and a yell from Sky-byte behind them, but they didn't have time for that.

"_Oops," _muttered Crosswise. Armorhide's treads shifted; the tank began to move forward.

"_Now," _said Hotshot. He gave a fraction of a second's pause, to let Ironhide go first, and spun his wheels in reverse. Armorhide's gun was already turning – not to him, to his left, distracted by the sound of the moving truck. The gun moved, aiming downward.

Hotshot transformed. He landed in a robot-mode crouch and sprang straight back for the Decepticon. Out of stealth mode and too close to hide in the smoke, he was as visible as he was going to get. Armorhide was intent on his target: he didn't process the new Autobot fast enough. Hotshot slammed feet-first onto the armoured roof of his turret. He was just in time to feel the tank rock slightly, see the reflected flash in the ship's hull as Armorhide fired.

No time to turn and look. He launched himself immediately for the open airlock door, transmitting a status query through pure reflex.

The door wasn't quite open. Rollbar was waiting for him. The blow he gave Hotshot was almost casual, but it flipped the Spychanger back and onto his aft on the ground.

Hotshot twisted as he bounced, and rolled aside. So much for that plan. The new dent in his armour twinged with pain. He winced and hoped it wasn't damaged too badly. Right now he needed all the protection he could get.

All reservations about radio communication dropped, he checked his team's status as he got up and moved back from Rollbar's position. The Decepticon was guarding the door and seemed to like it there.

"He's around the side," Rollbar called to his partner. Hotshot drew his fire blaster, expecting to face an irritated Decepticon looming out of the smoke any minute.

"That's great. I've got one right here," Armorhide responded, too focused on his own target. He let loose another plasma blast. Ironhide interrupted his report to Hotshot with a curse.

Ironhide was still moving, keeping Armorhide occupied. Given the tank's vibration-tracking trick, Hotshot appreciated it. Then again, the longer they played battleships, the more chance that Ironhide would get hit – or squashed.

_"Crosswise, where are you?"_ Hotshot said, pressing against the ship and looking around the battlefield. Visibility was dropping fast, and while he appreciated the effectiveness of his science officer's invention, it occurred to him that no smoke signal could do much good when it was trapped under a camo-field.

"_Still in stealth mode," _said Crosswise. _"I'm going to sneak in and get to the airlock the Preds came out of. Can't see any guards."_

"_Use some caution anyway," _Hotshot said, then switched channels. _"T-AI, we're trying to get into the airlocks, but we've got Decepticons and Predacons coming out the other way. How about a little backup?"_

"_Understood, Hotshot. The Autobot Brothers are en route. You'll just have to hold out a bit longer."_

"_What about the Bullet Trains?"_

"_I'm sending Optimus with them to help, but they'll need some time to get there."_

_We haven't got time to spare,_ Hotshot thought, but he held back from saying it. T-AI couldn't do any more about it. It took time to cover distance, and Cybertronian technology wasn't so good at twisting natural laws as to change that. Not on short notice.

"Well, look what we found." Gasskunk appeared a few feet away. "One little Autobot all by himself."

"That's more than enough to take you on," said Hotshot. He readied himself to fight, then saw the other silhouettes behind the skunk-bot.

"Aha!" Sky-byte swooped in from above, making Hotshot duck away to avoid the shark's jaws. Sky-byte laughed and hovered closer. "But you're not enough to take on _all_ of us."

"_Crosswise," _Hotshot said quietly over the comlink, _"I've found out why there aren't any guards around your door."_

"_Why's that?"_

"_They're all surrounding me."_

* * *

The first muffled explosion sent Onishi scrambling to his feet. It was ahead of him, and it sounded close. He hesitated. If the Predacons' work had just gone wrong with style, he didn't want to get any closer.

Then again, remembering what he'd heard… what if justice had finally caught up with them?

_I want to be there to see _that.

He sat back down by his jury-rigged transmitter and got back to work. Even if he reached an airlock safely, he'd have no sure way of getting through it, with all the controls far above his head. More importantly, he didn't have the strength to make a run for it.

He had to keep focused. If the ship was under attack, that suited him. That meant someone was close enough to pick up his SOS, if it worked. Of course, if the ship was under attack, it meant _he_ could be close enough to get caught in the crossfire.

Just another reason to stay where he seemed safe.

The final one was sitting just around the corner, in the form of an open panel of wiring. Several of them, in fact. And they were simple enough for him to work with. Obviously the Predacons had been working on this spot; he couldn't count on finding another one like it.

The muffled booms and thuds continued, regular enough for him to start thinking of them as a cannon. He kept working. After a while it struck him that the directions of the explosions varied, and he wondered what kind of fight was going on out there.

_Maybe someone's trying to blast their way in, _he thought, and his muscles tensed with the hope.

Finally, he twisted the last few wires into place and carefully picked up his fragile beacon. The only things holding it together were stray clips, gravity and the shreds of adhesive tape (it didn't look like the duct tape he was used to, but it was close enough) he'd peeled off the more badly trashed equipment.

It wouldn't hold for more than a few seconds. He was hoping for a minute. All it needed now was power.

He scrambled carefully to his knees, and then to his feet, cradling the semi-shapeless mass in his arms. He carried it out into the light near the open panels and set it down. He was trying to be gentle, but his co-ordination wasn't up to the task and it dropped the last couple of inches hard.

Another explosion sounded outside. Onishi groaned, then bent down and carefully picked up the power leads by the plastic wrappers he'd wound around the end clips. He checked the wiring in the wall one more time, then raised the cables and clipped them in. Hastily he stumbled back, and watched.

Nothing happened.

Even the lights attached to some of the salvaged parts stayed dead. The doctor slumped. Maybe it was working, invisibly, (he wouldn't see the signal, after all) and he'd done everything he could.

He suspected he'd done everything he could, when he should have just run.

* * *

"_So the Autobots are here and the engines have been sabotaged," _Megatron said. _"How_ interesting_**.**"_

"How did they _find_ us?" Mega-Octane wondered in open exasperation.

Megatron looked aside from them slightly, focusing on another channel. _"What was that about _foiling_ an Autobot plot, Sky-byte?"_

Sky-byte's reply was pure horrified panic._"But we destroyed it! They couldn't possibly have followed_ us-"

Megatron snarled, one hand on his forehead. _"Just get out there and put your worthless hide between those filthy Autobots and my ship!"_

_"Y-yes, Megatron!"_

While the shark was being harangued Scourge turned his attention back to Mega-Octane. "Don't think I've forgotten _you_," he said in a low voice. "As soon as this is over…"

Mega-Octane's visor was narrowed back at him. Scourge was surprised when all he said in reply was a weary "Of course."

_"But what is the purpose of that gas?"_ Megatron muttered, rejoining them. _"It doesn't appear to be causing any damage…"_

"Perhaps it was meant to give them a fog to hide in," Scourge said. "Or the Autobots failed to take our smelters into account. Perhaps it's just a coincidence."

"Yes, _that_ might be a coincidence," he heard Mega-Octane mutter. Scourge shifted the sword he held at his side.

"It doesn't matter," he continued. "It will not stop _us_ from doing our job. Our only concern is getting the engines running."

Megatron nodded, narrowed optics flicking from one place to another as he thought. _"We have no choice. I will not abandon this base, Scourge! If the distributor can't be repaired-"_

"No. There's no time for that." Mega-Octane had spoken. Scourge rounded on him, prepared to demolish him. But the other Decepticon had his head lowered in thought, and when he raised it, there was a purpose in his voice that made the commander pause. "But maybe we don't need it. I have an idea."

And then the first impact hit the ship.

* * *

Mirage's voice was urgent over the comlink. _"Ironhide! What's the situation?"_

Ironhide rolled away just as Armorhide got another shot lined up. He didn't move far enough. The blast sent the truck rolling, and he was lucky to land right-side-up.

"_We've got Preds and a couple of Decepticons guarding the airlocks," _he reported as he thought. He didn't want to transform – though in this fog, it probably wouldn't change the way Armorhide was tracking him. The Decepticon's tactics weren't too efficient, but his aim was getting better with each shot, and Ironhide's vehicle mode wasn't manoeuvrable enough to give the tank a real challenge.

He piled on the acceleration and scooted forward. There was a shout, and he felt dirt spatter his truck bed. That one had just missed him. The tank was still turning to follow him – didn't look like he was going to give it up, no matter what.

So Ironhide pulled up beside the Megastar, and waited.

That finally gave Armorhide pause. The main gun swung round, and stopped. After a second Ironhide heard him growl. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"I was counting on you bein' smart," Ironhide admitted with relief. _Too bad you're not gonna fire on the ship, though._

"I wouldn't be so happy about it, if I were you." Armorhide turned the main body of his tank mode and drove at the Spychanger.

_And now he's heard me talking, too. Nice stealth there, Ironhide. _He took off backward – and someone slammed into his tailgate and across his back. "What the-?"

Right in front of his headlights, Slapper picked himself up. The Predacon looked around in confusion. "What'd I hit?" One claw tapped Ironhide's hood by accident. Slapper blinked and poked it again. "Wait- Autobot!"

"Heheh, gotta run!" Ironhide reversed out of the way, just in time for Armorhide to hit the toad-bot from behind. He rolled right over his hapless ally and kept coming for Ironhide.

_Oh, great._ The plan was obviously to chase him away from the ship. He backed up around the ship, hugging the hull as much as he could. A stray shot hit the ship in front of him – from Hotshot's fire blaster, it looked like. Ironhide caught glimpses of him dodging the Predacons, keeping them distracted.

How long did Crosswise need to get through that airlock anyway?

As if to answer, Crosswise's voice came over the comlink. _"All right, looks good and clear, but the door's too high up for my vehicle mode. I'm gonna transform and get the controls."_

_"Got it,"_ said Hotshot._ "Go ahead. These Preds won't see you."_

_"Glad to- lugnuts!"_ The shout was painful.

"_Crosswise!" _Ironhide demanded. _"Are you all right?"_

"_Yeah," _his friend grunted. _"I just got blasted from above."_

There was a low sound above them. Ironhide could just make it out above the rumble of engines as he backed away from Armorhide, fast. It got louder as he listened, moving through the smoke above them. The sound of rotors.

"_The Decepticons' air support decided to join the show," _said Hotshot. _"Crosswise, can you get to the airlock?"_

"_Uh…" _Ironhide heard another blast over the Predacons' lasers as he transformed. _"No, looks like Movor has that pretty well covered._ Unless _I come at it in stealth mode like_ this _and transform…"_

Armorhide came around the corner, and Ironhide jumped.

"…_Man that hurts," _said Crosswise_. "I… guess this just isn't a good day for stunts."_

"Get off me, runt!" Ironhide winced at Armorhide's volume and held on to the tank's gun barrel as the Decepticon transformed. A hand clamped on to his side. Armorhide wrenched the clinging Autobot around under his arm, then tore him off altogether. Ironhide fired just before his back hit the ground.

He looked up at the Decepticon. Armorhide didn't even glance at the damage. He lunged down, but Ironhide rolled away and into vehicle mode – then cloaked.

Armorhide just growled and turned away. _Maybe he's not so good at tracking in his robot mode, _Ironhide thought, and stayed still.

Close enough to be visible through the mist, the Predacons were surrounding Hotshot again. Armorhide looked at them, then leaned forward with a snort. "Plasma mortar!"

The ground around them erupted upward as the mortar hit, sending dirt and Predacons flying everywhere. Soil spattered down on the Spychanger's roof. Ironhide shook it off, then froze as he heard someone roll up beside him.

"Actually," Hotshot whispered, not to ruin his stealth mode, "I'd say it's a very good day for stunts."

Ironhide chuckled. The Predacons were getting back on their feet, but it was Armorhide they advanced on.

"What was that for?" demanded Slapper.

"You moronic bullet-brain," seethed Sky-byte. "We had that Autobot!"

"Yeah, right." Armorhide turned back, scanning the area, then folded back into tank-mode. "I haven't got time to wait around for you to get lucky."

"I don't see you doing any better, Decepticon!"

"You can't see _anything_ in this," Darkscream muttered. Ironhide started backing up slowly. With any luck, having a bunch of Predacons tramping around next to him would stop Armorhide noticing the vibrations. The smoke around them stirred in the updraft as Ro-tor made another pass overhead.

"Wait a minute…" Sky-byte frowned, just before Ironhide backed away further and the curve of the ship blocked his view. "Ro-tor!" the shark-con shouted. "Come this way!"

Ironhide felt Hotshot bump into his side. "We'll go after Rollbar while they're busy," murmured his leader.

"Got it." Ironhide reversed away from the ship and turned. He always liked to face what he was fighting. _"Crosswise, you still with us?"_

"_Yeah, but I thought of another approach. Since the flyboys decided to drop in out of nowhere, I'm gonna take a look higher up and see where they came from."_

"_Good idea," _said Hotshot. He and Ironhide were rounding the ship leg from the other side.

"What do _you _want?" Ro-tor said in the distance.

"I thought… uh…" Sky-byte sounded puzzled. "Shouldn't all this wind get rid of the fog?"

There was a chuckle in Rollbar's voice as it rang out in answer. "Not when it's got nowhere to go, fishbrain!"

"Right," said Ro-tor. "The camo-field's keeping it in."

A second later something exploded against the forcefield above them. It flared and collapsed. Dust and grass blades drifted down through the air. The smoke roiled in the draught, and then began to thin.

"_I guess Armorhide got impatient with that, too," _said Crosswise. _"Look at that smoke start to shift!"_

"_What I want to know," _Hotshot said, _"is where Scourge is."_

* * *

The impacts were sporadic, probably accidental. Too weak to hurt the hull, Mega-Octane estimated. Or rather, hoped. He hoped even more that none of them were Decepticon error.

"Well?" Scourge demanded, as Megatron's image disappeared in a flurry of enraged curses. "What do you suggest we do, pump the energon into the engines ourselves?"

"Something like that, actually." Mega-Octane snatched up a laser saw as it threatened to fall from a workbench and stowed it away. Scourge was giving him a look that expressed what an imbecile he was. He explained. "I think we can manually rig the fuel lines to pipe energon into the systems we need right now. It'll give us the power to get out of here, it just won't feed anything else."

"I thought this ship was impossibly complicated," Scourge reminded him. "You could barely handle the repairs when you were following instructions: do you really think you can improvise the design in a matter of cycles?"

"Yes!" His hands were clenched: he met Scourge's gaze with determination. "I've been studying the systems for weeks, I know what we have to do. I'm sure we can make it work."

"If you feed energon into the wrong places you'll blow us all to scrap iron."

"I won't-!" Mega-Octane lowered his fists, steadied himself. "We have to do something, Scourge! Can we drive the Autobots off?"

"No," Scourge said immediately. "Megatron and I have already discussed this. Optimus will bring all his forces now he's found us, and they'll give everything they have to get inside the base. We have to get it out of their reach." He looked at his second and gave a slight nod. "We'll just have to take a chance."

"I won't fail you, Scourge," he said, the promise almost lost beneath the noise of another explosion outside. That had to be Armorhide. Otherwise Prime was here already and they were in real trouble.

Scourge stared at him for a moment, then started looking around. "Come on. Find what you need for this and let's move."

* * *

Megatron's claws dug into the arms of his command chair as another of the Predacons' lasers hit the hull. The Spychangers were far too weak to harm his ship, of course, to his delight. The battery-brained thugs who called themselves his minions, on the other hand…

For a second he toyed with setting the Decepticon fliers on them. He knew Movor and Ro-tor would be only too eager to obey. But this wasn't the time. He needed-

He opened a comlink to Scourge and Mega-Octane again. "What's going on down there? Have you found a solution?"

Scourge appeared to have the hose of an energy siphon looped over his shoulder. _"We think so, my lord. We're attempting to implement it now."_

"Well, how soon will I have my engines?" Megatron glanced aside at the screens showing the combat outside. Only a matter of time before he was a sitting tanker in Prime's sights.

Scourge, too, glanced aside for a moment. _"No more than a few minutes, sir."_

Megatron growled. "Put your backs into it! I need that power _now_!"

He shut off the link and turned back to the main displays. A thought occurred to him and he checked the system readouts. Yes, there it was. Although all systems were disconnected from the main supply of energon, the compartmentalised design meant that there was still some leftover power allocated to some of the ship's weapons systems.

Megatron smiled. It wasn't enough for a full-scale barrage, but he could still put some fear into the Autobots.

* * *

Ironhide went for Rollbar first. Crouched on the ledge above the airlock, Hotshot heard the clang and crunch of colliding metal as the Decepticon met his attack. Rollbar chuckled and sent Ironhide skidding backward into view. "Hey Armorhide," he called, "think I found your toy truck!"

"_We're on top of the ship," _REV updated him. _"We'll get you some covering fire in a minute."_

Even through the shouts and laser blasts, the sound of approaching engines caught Hotshot's attention. He looked up long enough for a snapshot glimpse through the haze: green, blue, white, red. The Autobot cavalry was here.

"_Hold on that,"_ he told REV. _"There's at least one airlock up where you are. Crosswise is already looking, so help him find it."_

_"Roger that."_

Another painful-sounding clang and a yelp from below, and Ironhide backed into view. "Some help, here?" he called up as Rollbar advanced on him.

Hotshot leapt down behind the Decepticon and aimed a punch at him, but Rollbar sidestepped and turned to meet him. He landed a punch to Hotshot's shoulder and the joint cracked.

Hotshot staggered backward towards the airlock. Behind Rollbar, Ironhide rallied and went for the 'Con's exposed back- until a blast of energy caught him from the side.

"Ironhide!" Hotshot shouted.

His friend rolled unsteadily to his feet, one hand pressed to his side. "I'm all right."

Armorhide stepped into view, holding his blaster, and Hotshot's gaze snapped back to Rollbar in time to see him raise his own. The green Decepticon paused, giving him a slight, uncanny smile.

The two pairs eyed each other for a long second: Spychangers poised to dodge, Decepticons to strike.

The air around Armorhide and Rollbar lit up with lasers, throwing them to the ground. The smaller jeep-con rolled with the impact; Armorhide wasn't so agile. It wouldn't keep him down though. Hotshot signalled Ironhide and they opened fire just as a heavy landing thumped the ground beside him.

He glanced aside and up to find Optimus, in full red and white gleaming battle mode. As he watched, Prime aimed his water cannon and unleashed a blast of high-pressure water that took the Decepticons across the battlefield and out of the fight.

"Thanks," Hotshot said, looking around to make sure no-one else was headed their way.

Optimus retracted his ladder and settled it on his shoulder. "You know me. Always where there's smoke…" He looked up along the rounded side of the Megastar. "So this is the ship… What's the situation? Hasn't Megatron come out to fight?"

"There's been no sign of him," Hotshot said, frowning. He hurried to the airlock door and began examining the control panel. "I thought he'd have taken off by now, but the engines are silent, too."

"Even if he's running this show from inside, he should want all of his forces out here." Optimus looked around. Team Bullet Train and the Autobot Brothers were keeping both Predacon and Decepticon busy. "This isn't much of a defence without Scourge _or_ Ruination. I've got a feeling they're up to something."

"Either way, right now we've got them cornered," Hotshot said. He tore off the casing of the airlock's controls. "We have to take the fuel out of their thrusters before they hit back."

"Watch out!" Ironhide yanked him away just before someone opened fire on them. The Spychangers threw themselves back against the hull. Ro-tor was hovering above them; Optimus turned to deal with him just as Ironhide nudged Hotshot in the side.

"Uh, what was that about it not being much of a defence?" he asked, pointing to the mounted lasers higher up the ship. Hotshot tensed. The barrels had started to gather the faint glow of a primed weapon.

"Optimus!" he yelled, and pointed as soon as his commander looked around. Optimus jerked as he saw, then turned and took aim. Hotshot swore and pulled Ironhide further clear of the airlock.

Prime rained a volley of lasers on the airlock, hammering the door with raw firepower. When it finished Hotshot could make out the twisted remains of the first blast still hanging in the frame – the airlock beyond seemed unscathed.

"Agh!" Optimus flinched under a hail of intense fire. Hotshot spun towards him in concern. The Autobot leader had drawn the ire of both Decepticon fliers now.

"Hey, hands off the ship, Prime!" Movor yelled.

"Try to get the door open!" Optimus ordered Hotshot, facing them. "We have to get inside!"

"Understood!" Hotshot sprinted back to the airlock, vaguely noticing Ironhide break away behind him to deal with some other threat.

He wrenched the outer door open and pushed in to the second one, detecting the energy that powered it and barely making out, even at this range, the open space beyond. His fingers were already enmeshed in the exposed control circuits before he realised something. He wasn't getting any readings from the rest of the hull. And he was practically standing in front of the main thrusters.

They were completely offline. Which meant no transwarp cells running. Which meant…

_This whole time. The whole_ time _we could have just_ phased in_!_

* * *

Together they dragged the pumps in, the equipment they were used to stealing with. Mega-Octane led them over to the pillar behind the energon smelters from which the distributor had been taken. He swung the main access panel open and began affixing siphon hoses as Scourge handed them to him. His hands moved in quick, efficient motions, and soon they were moving again.

They strung the makeshift fuel lines between two sections of the ship, running from machine to machine and moving in concert without an unnecessary word. Mega-Octane showed Scourge the inconspicuous junction nearby where they could access the main fuel supply to the engines, and Scourge took his word for it. Mega-Octane secured one end of a line even as Scourge fixed the other. There was no argument, no ambiguity. They worked together, and it was as it should be.

Bar the nature of their task, of course.

In minutes they had bypassed their missing component, plugged the engines straight into the fuel coming out of the smelters. Scourge slowed to a halt, dusting his hands.

"Is it done?"

Mega-Octane stopped leaning over the fastenings and moved over to check the readouts. "I think so. But there's only one way to be sure." He looked to Scourge. The deck sang with impact vibrations beneath them.

"Do it," said his commander.

Mega-Octane half-consciously braced himself as he opened the valves to flood the engine with a rush of pure burning energon-

There was a high, chiding beep from the console. He blinked and stared at the error alert.

"What was that?" Scourge demanded.

"Failsafe system." Mega-Octane couldn't stop staring at it, weighed down by shock. "It knows the distributor isn't in place. It won't release the fuel without it." To see another bright idea thwarted by this…

Scourge snarled. Mega-Octane heard him stride over to the access panel. He turned in time to see his commander return with a disconnected siphon. "What are you doing?"

Scourge didn't even look at him. He strode up to the nearest smelter and rammed the end of the siphon into the side. There was the click of the clamps latching on, and then the grinding whine as the siphon bit into the side of the smelter. A light on the side flashed green as it struck energon.

Mega-Octane stared at him, and a deep chuckle of satisfaction bubbled up through his vocaliser. Before he knew it he was laughing, rumbling with relief and delight as he turned and hurried to detach the rest of the siphons from the useless column.

"You see?" Scourge asked, joining him, optics glinting with amusement beneath his black helm. "The only way to get something from Predacons is to _take_ it." And Mega-Octane laughed the harder.

The boom and rumble of explosions outside were reaching a crescendo. They worked fast. They were attaching the last siphon when Movor interrupted over the comm.

"_Chief, we can't keep them away from the doors much longer," _Movor said. _"There's too many of them crawling around us! If we can't get out of here, then-"_

Scourge snapped the clamps into place and looked at Mega-Octane. _"Hold your position," _he answered. _"I'm on my way."_

* * *

They ran through the dark corridors. They were far narrower down here than the halls of the upper decks. Scourge turned to match every bend and corner without skidding, Mega-Octane half a pace behind him.

They took the fastest route to the outside of the ship. He didn't need to ask where Prime was: once he was outside, Scourge would force the Autobot leader to fight him.

No-one **else** is going to stand in my way.

The airlock was one more turn away. He rounded it, charged for the door – and suddenly there was a smaller form in front of it, the flames on his armour marking his outline. Scourge barely missed a step as the Spychanger faded fully into view and saw him. He kept coming as he reached up and summoned the Sword of Fury from subspace.

Hotshot panicked, opened fire on him; Scourge felt the fire on his armour and didn't bother to defend himself. He laughed and swung at the Autobot. "You want to play on _my_ turf?"

Hotshot dodged, slamming into the wall beside them in his attempt to get away. And then they both felt the metal around them stir, circuits left on standby coming to abrupt life. The Megastar's power lines roared with energy. 'Online' didn't begin to cover it.

"_At last!" _Megatron exulted._ "The engines are online! Prepare for-"_

Without warning the comm was swamped by a broadcast signal, incoherent and overpowered. "What the-" Hotshot exclaimed and disappeared backwards. Distracted, Scourge let him go, turned to see-

And then it was over. The signal terminated an instant after it began.

Mega-Octane looked at him blankly, shrugging. Scourge shook his head with a growl and punched the airlock open. He leapt down, and into battle.

* * *

Hotshot staggered back through the door and solidified. A second later he cursed his own stupidity: the engines were online again. Phasing back outside amid that had been dangerous: going back in was impossible.

It had been instinctive to duck, though. Blindsided by a signal and a sword coming at him…

"_Anyone know what that signal was?" _he demanded, half-dazed. The airlock slid open. Before he could move Scourge slammed him aside. Hotshot hit the ground hard, temporarily stunned. He heard the Decepticon let out a triumphant war cry as he went for Optimus.

"_What signal?" _REV demanded_. "Hotshot, what just happened down there?"_

Hotshot didn't answer. _The door, _he thought dazedly, and then his vision was full of green.

He rolled aside awkwardly before Mega-Octane could grab him and backed away. Optimus had his hands full with Scourge. _"Crosswise, they're powering up their engines. Can you get inside?"_

The faint thrum from the Megastar was rising swiftly. _"Mirage is almost there," _Crosswise answered. _"If we can keep him covered… gah!"_

His processor was still a mess. Hotshot dodged a punch from Mega-Octane, belatedly realising that the Decepticon was running straight past him. The Megastar's engines were building up power by the moment. That wasn't good.

The ground beneath them began to burn. That was worse.

He turned and ran toward his leader. "Optimus! We can't get inside, and they're about to take off!"

Optimus looked aside from grappling with Scourge – at Hotshot, at the base, and the Spychanger could guess at the calculations in his mind. They didn't want to put the human prisoner at risk – but if they didn't do _something_ now, they might kill him.

With a battle cry of his own, the red Autobot forced his opponent aside and swung his missile launcher toward the ship. Hotshot ran past him, hurling himself at Scourge in a tackle with all the strength he could muster. Anything to keep the Decepticon from interfering.

Scourge rocked – off-guard, off-balance - and past his waist Hotshot had a moment to see Optimus's missile barrage curve towards the Megastar's engines.

Ruination rose before them.

The massive Decepticon took the missiles with a roar of pain and triumph, optics fixing on the Autobots who'd sent them. Behind him, the Megastar's engines truly blazed to life: Hotshot swore he could feel the tug from the transwarp cells as they twisted space itself around them.

Scourge grabbed him by the shoulder and slung him square into Optimus's back. Hotshot yelped as the impact sent fresh spikes of pain through his wounds, then scrambled to get off. Optimus pulled him to his feet and followed, standing over him with weapons aimed at Scourge. But the black mech was already gone, joining Ruination between them and the launching ship. The Predacons must have hotfooted it already, he thought distantly.

The Predacon base rose into the sky in a swirl of ultraviolet gas, Ruination's laughter blending with the thunder of its engines. Hotshot caught sight of Mirage and heard Ironhide's yell as the sharpshooter lost his perch on the ship.

"Rapid Run has him," Optimus said wearily, before Hotshot could run to check on him. "It's all right, Hotshot. It's over for now."

Hotshot sat back and looked up at his leader. Optimus's gaze was fixed on the Decepticons. Ruination lifted Scourge into the air, following their retreating ship.

"Next time," Optimus murmured, and looking at Scourge, Hotshot didn't doubt the Decepticon was thinking exactly the same thing.

* * *

_Author's note: And thus ends the last full chapter. There's a (short!) epilogue to follow, which I'll try to get done soon. In the meantime, please drop a review to let me know what you thought, and thanks again to everyone who's been reviewing until now._


	7. Epilogue: Rekindling

_Author's note: I can't quite believe it's actually done. It's not an epic as fanfics go, I know, but damn if certain temperamental Decepticons weren't a bitch to write. (They're also my favourite part of the plot, so go figure.) So yeah, there may be more at some point in the future. I think I've learned a lot from doing this fic, and… well, we'll see if I manage to improve on it._

_As always, a big thanks to all you reviewers for the encouragement and the spiffy comments, and also to everyone who has yet to review 'cause I have no idea when the next author's note will be. You may have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say will be accepted into evidence and squeed over mightily. Please drop a review if you've anything to say, concrit included._

_Just one last part to wrap up, then. Hope you all enjoy it!_

* * *

**Epilogue: Rekindling**

They'd fixed the engines, not the navigation systems. Now the Megastar was going blind. Not a major problem, while it was in the air. When it came to land, they had be careful. Decepticon ingenuity being what it was, they solved it.

Ro-tor flew alongside the hull, dropping down to watch closely as the ship lowered itself into a string of narrow gorges. On the far side, Movor was keeping well clear of the engines, and not just so he could give Megatron a better view.

Ro-tor reported a few quick estimates of the space and the ship's position over the comm for Megatron's benefit. _"Port nacelle's about to graze an outcrop," _he added, giving the heading, and the massive ship slowly shifted away from it.

"_Hold it just a nano,__ there's another one this side. I'll get it for you." _Movor charged his lasers, two flashes of light either side of the shuttle, and fired. Ro-tor heard rock shatter on the far side of the ship. _"There you are, boss, go right ahead."_

Megatron barely responded to them; neither Decepticon expected it. He had a blind ship to pilot, didn't he?

Ro-tor dropped with the ship, into the cool shadow of the gorge. The ship lowered and shifted, preparing to set down. The helicopter flew a quick inspection tour, banking around the curved sides and back. Then he wheeled around and dove between the engines, between massive armoured purple walls still moving back and forth and into his way…

He was out in a second, bursting into the dying sunlight beneath the wind of his rotor blades. He climbed and then looped around the edge of the ship, feeling as much as seeing the great bulk settle into place.

"_Hey, show-off,"_ said Movor over a private channel.

Ro-tor didn't deign to acknowledge it. It wasn't remotely impressive enough to count as showing off, unless you happened to be amused by your partner's caution.

"_Didn't Ruination use you as a blast shield a few hours ago?" _The gestalt had lifted both arms to ward off the barrage, but the left arm had caught the brunt of it.

"_Big deal,"_ he said. There were aches along his tail and sides, but it didn't stop him flying.

"_Yeah, and you'll be first in line for repairs when we're finished playing pilot fish."_

"_At least we got here in one piece._" Ro-tor hovered with his nose angled down toward the ship. He cast his sensors in a sidelong glance at his partner. _"Even you have to admit Scourge was good."_

"_All right, already! Scourge did good! When'd I ever say different?" _He grumbled when Ro-tor just laughed. _"Yeah, I don't know what you're laughing at." _He lowered his voice. _"He's a pain in the aft to work for, but I'm glad he's on our side."_

"_Well,"_ Ro-tor said with amusement, _"duh. He's one of us."_

* * *

He could see now. His eyes had adapted to the dark hours ago, but it was more than that. Now there was a glow, reflecting down the oversized halls from lights that had flickered into life before they took off. Seemed like everything had powered up in that moment.

Doctor Onishi looked down, head resting against the wall behind him. The pathetic pile of melted wires and plastic beside him had begun to cool.

By the time that the rumbling of the ship's engines subsided, he'd regained enough strength to stand and wonder exhaustedly where to go next.

The signal… the signal had looked like it was working, in the second before it overloaded. He had to hope that was long enough… but even then, there was no way to know if anyone had heard it. And no-one had come to rescue him. There had been no time for _that_.

_What if the Predacons didn't win? _he wondered in a sudden burst of optimism. _What if the Autobots have taken the ship?_

He wasn't going to risk it, of course. The thought still buoyed him, lent him a mood approaching cheeriness as he lurched in the direction that (he guessed) led outside.

This time it was a mistake.

He knew that when a 'wall' up ahead slid open, spilling light into his face. He flinched, covering his eyes and stumbling backwards, giant footsteps hitting the floor in front of him.

"There you are!"

A clawed hand snatched him up and the doctor fought for the strength to struggle, but Sky-byte paid it no heed as he lifted the human up to his face. "Sorry to interrupt your stroll, doctor, but this isn't a free-range facility, if you know what I mean."

Sky-byte carried him back into the elevator, the Predacon musing to himself. "I wonder how you got out... Oh well. At least I found you before you caused any trouble. That would have been the last thing I needed."

* * *

The Spychanger had taken his share of damage in body, but it wasn't that which he longed to mend.

"I'm sorry, Optimus," he said, staring at the bank of screens in front of them. Back in the command centre of Cybertron Headquarters, and in his mind he was still playing over that sequence on the threshold of the Megastar. "I was so _close_…"

"It's all right, Hotshot. You and the others did all you could."

"I wish I was so sure of that," Hotshot muttered. "But who knows when we'll get another chance like that?"

He gave the other Autobot a sidelong glance. Optimus didn't look at him.

T-AI's hologram appeared in front of them. "You might want to see this. I've analysed the signal Hotshot received before the Megastar took off."

"Do you think it's important?" Hotshot asked sceptically.

The AI nodded seriously. "It's a distress signal. A simple one, but it looks human."

"Human? But it came from inside the Predacon base…" His voice slowed as he looked to Optimus, his visor widening.

A blazing light had returned to his friend's optics. "Doctor Onishi! Somehow he was able to call for help."

"That has to be it…" _How many other humans do we know in there? _"But how did he do it?"

"I don't know," T-AI said excitedly. Her image was beaming at them both. "But from my analysis, it's the most likely explanation."

Optimus nodded. "He's alive. That's all we need to keep the search going."

Hotshot felt the tension that had built up in his servos over the last few days clench and then begin to evaporate like morning fog. He lifted his head and let out a triumphant "Hah!" at the universe.

"We're going to tell Koji, aren't we?" T-AI asked, the little hologram glowing brighter.

Hotshot nodded slightly and turned. "That depends on whether Optimus still remembers how to deliver good news."

His leader chuckled, looking back down at him. "Thank you, Hotshot – but this is all thanks to you and the Spychangers. I think you should be the one to do it."

"We couldn't have done it without you." He shook his head, and then leaned forward, dropping his voice. "And I don't have a promise to keep."

Optimus paused, looking at his friend with a quiet intent that to the Spychanger said 'thank you' more than the words could ever do. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

"Then you'd better get ready to tell him," said T-AI cheerily beside them.

"Tell who what?" Koji stood in the doorway, putting down a bulging schoolbag.

Optimus lifted his head. "Koji." He walked over to greet the boy, then knelt down to speak to him as Koji came in further.

Hotshot and T-AI shared a brief look. Hotshot nodded, and the hologram beamed with pleasure.

_It's good to know the doctor's alive, _he thought, looking back at them._ But really, Optimus. As if you ever needed a sign._

* * *

"Congratulations, Scourge. Not only are the Megastar's repairs almost complete, but thanks to your strength and unquestioning devotion to my orders, Optimus Prime has lost his greatest opportunity to stop my plans."

"I am honoured to serve you, Megatron," Scourge said, bowing. He was conscious of Mega-Octane standing smartly at his side.

"You've proven yourselves well," Megatron said idly, bestowing a pleased look on them. Now that the danger was past, all the minor debacles seemed forgotten. "And you shall reap the rewards as soon as our enemies are destroyed. I will send for you when I have new instructions."

"We will… await your command," Scourge said, and Megatron's image disappeared.

Alone together in the room, the Decepticons were silent for a minute.

"We still don't know where that signal came from," said Mega-Octane as Scourge turned to him. "Or who sabotaged the repair module."

"No." Scourge folded his arms. He'd had a thought about that. He didn't like it. When he spoke it was reluctantly. "We were the only ones in the ship who could access that component… apart from Megatron."

Mega-Octane jerked away, staring at his commander. "You're not suggesting… why would he do that? It doesn't make sense. And what about that signal?"

"A malfunction, perhaps- I don't know," he snapped, seeing Mega-Octane shake his head from the corner of his vision. "The ship _was_ powering up, and you admit you don't know how all of the systems are connected."

"Right." Neither of them were satisfied with that explanation.

"What's our energy status?" Scourge asked suddenly, still burning holes in the wall with his stare.

"Taking off used up almost all of our energon," Mega-Octane reported. He couldn't help a snort as he added, "And what's left there stinks of Autobot contaminants."

Scourge gave a nod, and faced him. The mission was dealt with. Now they had something else to settle.

"So, Mega-Octane," he said in a low voice, "where do we stand now?"

A Predacon would have feigned confusion. Mega-Octane didn't bother. Scourge found himself appreciating that. His fellow Decepticon looked down at him with a glowing pink visor, an air of weighty seriousness making him seem to loom even more than his tall frame.

"I… owe you an apology, commander," said Mega-Octane. Part of Scourge wondered cynically if he'd used the same tone with Optimus Prime. But the rest of him doubted it. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps because he'd half expected this.

Mega-Octane went on, holding Scourge's gaze and speaking frankly. "I've been underestimating you. I forgot that you were a Decepticon…and that you were our leader."

"So now you _don't_ have a problem with my command?"

"No." He straightened slightly. "I thought you were too volatile to trust outside of a straight fight. And I realise I was wrong. I let a couple of incidents distract me from what you were capable of. Watching you today reminded me why Megatron chose you to lead us."

Scourge stared at him. "What were you expecting me to do, rush mindlessly out to engage Prime in battle and leave the plan to burn?"

"Like I said," Mega-Octane reiterated simply, bowing his head. "I misjudged."

He growled, angered again that anyone would _dare_ to think so little of him – but that anger was tempered as he studied his second. He'd spent the last weeks interpreting the other's behaviour as if it were his own. And then been surprised at what happened when he actually challenged Mega-Octane...

For that matter, the Commando's behaviour in the battle today. He could have stayed in the ship, fussing about any more sabotage to the engines. Instead he'd followed at Scourge's back. Dashed out headlong after his leader, in fact.

Why _had_ Scourge assumed he knew the other's intentions? Because they were both Decepticons? He remembered the circumstances that had made them so, and realised what he might have missed. The obvious, really.

They were cast in the same mould, he and his second, but perhaps it wasn't quite the same fire that drove them…

He gave a short 'hmph', and then admitted, "You weren't the only one." Mega-Octane's visor brightened sharply; Scourge went on, "Perhaps it's time we both remembered our places."

"Agreed," said Mega-Octane, "sir." Again that voice registered as oddly sincere, oddly… proud, maybe?

One had been imbued with the spark energy of an Autobot commander, and the other had not. Scourge had always accepted that that made him stronger than the others, carrying part of Prime's essence as well as Megatron's. But did it make that much of a difference to the way they thought as well?

He looked down at his armour, still dented and scorched from the battle, then up at the green mech. "If your services are no longer booked for the ship, I'm in need of repairs."

Mega-Octane looked him over, his natural state of brisk efficiency starting to take over once more - but still sounding unusually pleased when he said, "It won't take long. You're not easy to damage."

"What about the rest of you?" Scourge asked, turning to lead the way to the repair bay.

"Even shorter. Why?"

"The Autobots dared to strike at our base itself." He cast a glance over his shoulder, optics narrowed in a smirk. "Let's see about returning the gesture."

"Yes _sir_!"

And maybe it was the programming, but it seemed to Scourge that things were the way they should be.


End file.
